The Tug of War
by Fiery Emerald Eyes
Summary: AU - After the X-men failed the recruitment of Rogue, Xavier makes a shocking discovery that could change the fate of everything. Mystique and Magneto each want Rogue for their own nefarious plots. Rogue must decide who to trust with not only her life, but her future. Is this a game she can win?
1. The Tug of War

**The Tug of War**

Jade eyes followed the almost iridescent-winged dragonflies skim over the surface of the lake, sweeping low to dip into the water and yet gracefully elude the fish that would have them for a light snack. The scorching sun dropped off the horizon appearing to sizzle into the lake, while painting the southern sky in hues of crimson, violet, and indigo. Closing her heavily lined eyes, she inhaled thoroughly the sweet smells of damp dirt and lumber, and immersed herself in the music of frogs, crickets, katydids, and the faint murmur of owls. Nowhere else had the same fragrance, the delicious melodies-at least not anywhere that she had been. Somehow the scent reminded her of home, at least the idea of home – where you could sit on the porch, soak up the songs of the night while curling your toes in the dew kissed grass – without restrictions, unencumbered, and daringly stripped. Perhaps it was the actual feel of the wet soil on her fingers, under her nails…the feeling that you could put down roots, dig into the earth, and produce something from a tiny seed…that's what she enjoyed. She sighed deeply, a slight frown marring her lovely features. The peace, the stillness would not last. Slowly tucking a stray wisp of red hair behind her ear, stilling her hand for a moment savoring everything that she appreciated about this place and this time and the quiet that the lake afforded her even though the heavy beats from inside wafted out on the soft breeze.

She turned propping herself against the railing of the large deck, she peered into the building at the teens dancing to the thumping sounds. Disinterested, she turned back to the water symphony that she found so calming. The rainbow of Chinese lanterns created glimmering echoes upon the smooth face of the water as the sun slipped further. Soon it would be time to return to the house - to restrictions, but for now she felt almost ordinary. Most would probably assume that her life was carefree and untroubled. But worries kept her awake when normal teens would dream. Most suspected her style along with her streaked hair was to intimidate or a clique choice. This was not the case. Sighing again, she attempted to quiet the troubled thoughts and ran her hand along the graying wood rail. The night itself seemed to breathe tenderly to her as russet waves lifted from her shoulders dancing in the wind. She smiled.

The tanned, blonde athlete studied the beauty hidden in the shadow safely from the doorway to the boat dock. Shifting from right to left foot, he attempted to work up the courage to ask her to dance. He noticed her weeks ago at school. She was not hard to notice - not only was she beautiful, she was mesmerizing. From her emerald eyes to the array of colors she encased her milky white digits within, she intrigued him. There were others in school with her fashion sense, but she was beyond the crowd. She was also, by all appearances, an enigma. He had questioned others concerning her, but no one seemed to know much about her. This made her even more intriguing, if possible. He was desperate to know her, to see her smile at him, hear her say his name, and to see...and to touch those delicate fingers under all those colorful gloves, to have those hands touching his face...his lips...to kiss...

An elbow to the ribs brought him back to reality. Turning, he found the team's tight end and his best friend cracking wise about object of his desire. "You plan on stalking her or asking her to dance sometime this century?" Cody turned his stare back at the captivating creature. "You've been trying to work up the nerve all week!" Dragging his friend from the building, "Body snatchers, that's the only explanation, man."

Whispers behind her interrupted her musings. From the corner of her eye she could see the two boys poking and prodding one another; she recognized both from school - football players. One had been staring for quite a while, unaware that she had felt his eyes on her - not only here at the club, but also at school. Unknowingly she stiffened and turned to face her fellow students.

A dance. _He __wanted __a __dance. _Inwardly she smiled while attempting an air of nonchalance, but her soft verdigris eyes exposed her. _He __sounded __so __sweet __and __unsure__… _He sounded almost flustered to ask her for a dance; he even stuttered a bit. She thought that Cody would never have been shy or even hesitant to approach a girl. Girls lined up for him. _What __would __Irene __say? _Mischievously, she thought that perhaps what Irene did not know..._would __not __hurt __me._ Although, she would normally immediately turn such an offer down, his sorrowful hazelnut eyes touched her. _He __looks __like __he __expects __me __to __reject __him__ – __like __my __opinion __of __him...matters! _He hung his head staring at his feet, shuffling them, and nudging something on the dock as if he expected to be rejected. She just did not have the heart…

A slight smile touched her lips, "Aah heck, why not? After all, where's the harm in one dance?"

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Inside they took places on the dance floor as the upbeat music allowed enough space to prevent unnecessary contact; she allowed herself a brief respite, letting her guard down, smiling, and dancing freely. It felt wonderful. She did not have to focus on anything, but the dance. In spite of herself, she was having fun. This was not something she had planned, but _maybe __I __shouldn__'__t __plan __so __much. __Maybe __I __can __have __some __fun __once __in __a __while... _Without warning, Cody crashed into her and both landed in a jumble on the wooden floor. Instantly, Cody scrambled up, shooting his interfering pal a 'look', he reached down to help his partner up, "Hey, I'm sorr…" the apology would go unfinished as he captured her bare wrist and his world went dark.

The touch was electric and caused both to cry out – he in shock, she in pain.

Suddenly his life flashed before him, from a young boy playing to last night's victory game. All slammed together as if it were a movie reel of the highlights of his life. _Am __I __dying? _ "My head…uh, these images…" _my __voice..._He stood up and found his own body lying on the floor. _What __the? __Am __I __dead? _ He gaped as his friends who stared back bizarrely. "What's happening to me?" His voice sounded foreign to his own ears. He looked down to his hands, gloved in black…_these __aren__'__t __mine._ "What am I?" Looking to his best friend, "Wh..Who am I?"

Astounded, Cody watched as his best friend leaned over his supine body and shook it. _Am __I __dead? _He wanted to scream out, but words would not come. "Cody, Cody, what's wrong?" The tight end turned glaring up at Cody, "What did _you_ do to him?" _I__'__m __Cody! __I __AM __HIM! _Cody stared at his best friend-friends since fourth grade, lemonade stand entrepreneurs, one another's wingman, players on the same team. They knew each other like the back of his own hand. He looked hard at his hand, gloved in black. _Well, __maybe __not __this __hand..._ _Man, __I__'__m __right __here! __And __there! __Oh __man__… __What __is __happening __to __me? _Was Cody being accused of hurting himself? _I __didn__'__t __hurt __myself! __Did __I? __Did __I __do __this __to __myself? _As he felt his stomach turn, Cody screamed inside his head _RUN! _He took a step back, turned, and ran as if his life depended on it-because it may. Even though his fellow player blocked the door, Cody tossed him aside, leaving his best friend bewildered.

As for Cody, one thought reverberated, _home._

···················

"My mental impressions from the scene indicate a highly disturbed individual. Our mutant is a danger to herself and possibly others as well." Professor Xavier concluded, sending the team from the room to prepare themselves and the x-jet for the trip south. He stayed his longtime friend mentally, _"__Logan, __please __remain __for __a __moment.__" _ Charles turned to Logan inside the sterile control booth, "She's an incredibly special mutant, Logan. I _do __not_ want to lose her. I cannot yet fully explain, but she has the potential for limitless power."

Logan scratched his stubble covered chin. "That would be alot of power. Just _what _can she do?"

···················

Logan kicked back in his seat, propping his striped boots on the nearby console. He was hoping to catch a few winks on the way to snag this runaway mutant. He surreptitiously stole a glance at the Professor. Charles had told him everything about this mutant's powers, but... _Soul __sucking __powers__- _ _Something __more __than __just __this __mutant __has __definitely __got __the __Prof __worked __up__…_He again wondered what had him agitated and why Charles would not share with his old friend. He knew that there must be more behind what his friend had actually said compared to what was not. A brief shadow of concern flickered on his rugged features. His black unruly eyebrows drew together for what most perceived a menacing display when oddly this was his natural expression.

Logan was considered a mystery for some, hidden to all…even partly to himself. The students thought him unapproachable and that would lead to much alone time and thinking, which led to 'the scowl', leading to those around him being apprehensive. Interestingly, he enjoyed keeping them at bay with such 'looks' as it gave him an inflated sense of power. He savored his private time and had difficulty relating to the young kids as his youth was just like him - a mystery. Also, for the life of him, Logan just could not understand the kids, _especially __Kitty. _Who was, at that moment, chatting up Jean directly behind him and with his exceptional hearing, he could hear every word; whether he wanted to or not.

He took another look at Xavier who was now staring blankly with his fingers tucked under his chin. Surmising him to be deep in thought, Logan closed his sinfully decadent chocolate eyes, stretched in the seat, crossed his arms, and settled in for the long plane ride. He knew that the chances of getting a brief nap were close to impossible, but he was trying to maintain a positive attitude in the face of overwhelming odds. His senses were on full alert belying his appearance of a relaxed state, but inside, Logan felt a tension rising, possibly from his chat with Charles, but it could just be the kids too. _Heck, it's always the kids. _He could all but smell what the kids were thinking...

···················

"I've logged our flight plan with the FAA. We're cleared through to Jackson. We'll take the van from there." Scott informed the Professor. "Good. You're picking up logistics quickly, Scott." As Scott returned to the control panel, Charles' thoughts again retreated back to the young girl oblivious to their mission. _We __cannot __lose __her. _Lost in his contemplation, he did not notice the antics at the front of the jet until he actually heard Kitty shriek. He quickly reprimanded his student, hoping there would be no further incidents. He needed some quiet for the thoughts running through his mind.

Without moving a muscle or even opening an eye, Logan observed the scene. He'd heard the entire conversation between Jean and Kitty. He 'watched' as Kitty moved to the front of the jet after Kurt's wind-walking landed him in her lap. Snorting a half growl, "Kids." He could positively smell the desire pouring off of Kurt. It came in waves. The desire for acceptance. _Poor __little __blue __squirrel __just __wants __half-pint __to _like _him. __If __only __he__'__d __give __her __a __bit __of __breathing __room __and __quit__ '__popping__' __around __her __all __the __time. _Logan sighed. He knew that Kitty liked Kurt, but she was not accustomed to this way of life - the X-men way of life. Kitty came from a 'normal' home with 'normal' people. He almost laughed the first time that she saw him pop his claws. She, on the other hand, had not. She'd almost fainted. He knew that if Kurt just gave her some space that they'd be best friends in no time. _He __just __needs __a __bell._

Kitty plopped into the pilot's chair, surprising Scott almost as much as Kurt's departure. "Uh, hi." Kitty frowned back to him. Leaning in Scott whispered, "Are you ok?" Kitty gritted words out, "Yes, I'm fine." But Kitty did not feel fine. She needed – _I __need __some __air. __Room __to __breathe __already! _ But in the tight confines of the jet thousands of miles in the air, Kitty knew there was nowhere to go. She looked to her right at Scott. Handsome even with his visor covering his red glowing eyes, Scott always seemed to know the right thing to do. _He__'__s __always __so __well __prepared. __Like __a __boy__scout! __He __never __would __have __insulted __Kurt... Oh, __now __I__'__m __going __to __have __to __apologize..._

Scott raised an eyebrow but did not utter another word. He had learned to stay quiet with Jean - she would eventually start talking. The stopping would be the dilemma. Then Kitty said in a hushed tone, "Ok, like I'm sorry, but he always just _pops_ in on me…._everywhere!_ I mean, personal space, much?" She brushed the hazel waves from her eyes and stared straight ahead, crossing her arms. "I mean, is it too much to ask for him to - I don't know - not do that?" Turning to face Scott again, she leaned halfway out of the co-pilot's chair and hissed, "And he totally did it in front of Mr. Logan. I'm so sure, especially after that danger room session this morning. Mr. Logan already thinks I am, like, a spaz already! He's probably thinking up some goof-ball nickname to give me, like Scaredycat! Or Chickencat…Oh. My. Gosh. What if he calls me 'Chickencat'?" Kitty continued to mumble to herself as she slammed back into the seat thinking she'd just heard Logan choke.

Scott chuckled, "Kitty, relax. Boy, sometimes I need a translator for you or maybe a Kitty-to-English dictionary?" At her smirk, he joked, "and you're talking, _like,_ a mile a second!" She gave him a small smile. "But I do like the sound of Scaredycat," She stuck out her tongue. "and don't worry. Logan has names for _all_ of us - whether we like them or not! Most often he sticks with 'kid'." Kitty sat up and leaned over towards him. Scott smiled and whispered, "It's because he's 900 years old." Kitty gaped at him. Scott frowned, "Uh…not really, Kitty. I'm just kidding you." Kitty shifted in her seat to sneak a peek at the topic of conversation when abruptly his eyes shot open to catch her in the act. She slumped further down into the seat, "Is it possible to crawl under this thing – without, _like¸_falling out?" Scott smiled at her twist on his joke and got one in return.

Logan almost choked as he struggled to not laugh aloud at Kitty's rant on nicknames. _Chickencat__ – __I __should __consider __that__…__. _He would never admit it to anyone, but he secretly reveled in messing with the teens. While he spent a lot of time alone, he did enjoy being with these kids and Charles. However, he would never admit it – not even to save his life. He glanced her way just in time to catch her staring at him. She slumped in her seat. _Poor __kid. _Silently he chuckled. _Half-pint__ …__chickencat__…__Yeah, __I__'__m __going __to __have __to __remember __that __one. _Logan once more closed his eyes to the youths around him…praying for a reprieve.

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And Cody did just that – ran. He ran all the way to his house. Standing in the middle of his street, he stared up at his home. He thought then of many things: his father, family, friends, and what had brought him here. Then he used the spare key, went in, up to his room, and sat on his bed. He was safe – at home. From the bed, he could see his dresser's mirror, and what he saw confused and terrified him. _What __is __going __on? _He stood up and looked in the mirror and gasped. Staring back at him was the girl – the girl from the dance. _But __I __know __her__…__all __about __her__… _He touched his face...her face, ran his gloved fingers through her hair. _My __hair. __Her __hair? __Just __who __am __I? __Her __or __me?_ He touched his body, her body, running gloved hands over her stomach. _This __feels __so __weird. __I__'__m __a __man __not __a __girl. _But the face in the mirror did not lie. _I__'__m __a __girl __now..._ He touched his breasts. _Yep, __they__'__re __mine._ He threw his hands in the air. Everything _felt_ like him or her, but it was almost as if he was not him at all. Cody sat on his bed. Out of the corner of her eye, he saw the book. Pulling out his album, she sat on the edge of the bed looking through his memories. "All this is me? Mine?" He looked in the mirror _But __I__'__m __a __girl_, "But which me am I?" throwing his trophies onto the floor. He wanted to cry.

She turned as the door to his room flew open to see what appeared to be a very angry…_Is __that __a __badger_? "Wh-who are you and what do you want?"

"You, girlie. I want you!" the blue-orange badger growled. Then he grew massive steel claws out of his knuckles, and charged towards her. She screamed and ducked as the badger jumped kicked the armoire. She briefly thought, _He __hates __the __armoire!_ And then wondered how _that _thought formed. The angry badger was talking about something – X-men? Picking up a broken board of what was formerly his closet, Cody asked, "X-men? I don't understand! I just want you to leave me alone!" He slammed the board into the badger's head and ran from his room as the badger howled.

She chillingly wondered, _Do __badgers __howl?_

···················

After a brief visit to the area hospital, the X-men split into two teams to search for the girl while Professor Xavier guided them. Logan led his team of Kitty and Kurt down the alley. "The Prof says the girl's mind is confused and difficult to pinpoint. So keep looking." He raised his nose, growling. He knew that scent.

"Was? Got a scent?"

"Yeah, I smell fear."

···················

He did not see the badger, but now a woman with ivory hair was chasing him through his yard. _No, _Cody's _yard. __I__'__m __not __Cody._ The woman was talking about mutants. _Am __I __a __mutant? _She jumped onto the fence wondering if this was how her life would end, screaming as she vaulted over seconds before the lightning bolt hit her. Hitting the dirt in the small back alleyway between the neighborhood homes, she rolled landing near some seemingly familiar feet.

"Rogue, it's me, Irene. Try and remember," the blind woman said. _Is __that __my __name?_

Everything was a huge jumble. She felt as if she had two minds and she ached from the touch. _Who __is __this __woman? __How __does __she __know __me? _Her head pounded as she searched for an answer. She was scared; gasping as her heart raced keeping time with the pulsating in her mind. "Who… wait, Irene yes, but…" She shook her head, he didn't know any 'Irene'. _But __I__'__m __not __Cody. __I__'__m... _"I'm so confused - strange thoughts in my head, people chasing me…" Nothing seemed to make sense. _There __is __a __badger __and __some __lightning __lady __chasing __me __and __throwing __things __and __claws __out __of __hands... _She felt as if she were about to have heart attack right then and there_._

"Easy, easy, honey. The police are coming. The X-men will not risk a confrontation." She sounded so sure of herself…and familiar to the young girl.

"X-men?" _Didn__'__t __the __badger __say __something __about __them?_

"Yes, mutant hunters." Irene leaned down to the girl and held out her hand, wagging her fingers. "Now hurry. I have a friend who can help you. I'll take you to her."

"I don't know." _But __where __can __I __go? __I __don__'__t __know __where __I __am. __I __think __I __know __Irene. _Deciding quickly to trust the blind woman, she stood and took the woman's hand. "All this is happening so fast…I don't…" Turning she saw them. _It__'__s __that __claw __happy __badger __and __he __brought __friends!_ "It's him! The one who attacked me! Run, Irene, run!" She pulled her hand from Irene's grasp. She climbed over another fence begging, "Please, leave me be!"

Irene stood still as the three ran past her, then she realized that she held Rogue's right glove.

"That's got to be her," said Logan as he ran after her, half wondering what was wrong with her. He understood that she was unaware of her ability, and her mind was confused. Yet her fear filled the night air. It was, at this point, _all_ he could smell. _Did __I __hear __her __say __that _I'd _attacked __her? __Is __she __delusional __too?_ Kurt suddenly appeared in front of Logan with a small plume of smoke. "Wolverine, wait! She seems to be terrified by you. Let me try." Logan growled, looking around, "Ok, kid, just don't mess up. Capice?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'll go find the Prof, and Squirt, put on your best face. No sense freaking the poor kid out anymore than she already is; and keep an eye on the Half-pint here." The last comment earned him a, "Hey!" from an already wounded Kitty.

Logan chuckled as he went for Xavier. _Well, __she __knows __her __nickname __now. __At __least __I __didn__'__t __call __her,__ '__Chickencat__'__._ He almost made a mental note to tell Chuck about the outright fear. It did not connect that she would be so afraid of them to run, and beg to be left alone. His heart went out to her.

···················

Kurt turned on his image inducer, turning him from a handsome, blue-furry, tailed mutant to a handsome regular-looking human. He teleported onto the tree swing just in time to see the girl run past him. "Guten tag fräulein." Rogue gasped, spun on her heal, staggering a bit, and looked ready to lay into him if necessary. "Please don't be frightened," with his soft German accent. He teleported over onto the birdbath near the redhead, giving her what he hoped would be a reassuring expression. It missed its mark.

"What do you want?" she asked rather brusquely.

"To help you. We're the good guys." Kurt hopped down, walked towards her – only to find her backing away from him. He stopped. "Especially me," he said, thumbing towards himself. He smiled. She crossed her arms, but _at __least __she __was __not __backing __away __anymore._ _This __is __going __good. __Now, __to __convince __her__… _"We've come all this way to find you. We are the..." The words died on his lips. She was looking for a way out of this yard. He attempted a different approach, "I know what you are going through. I've been exactly where you are. I was like you once, alone and unsure of what I was – afraid to show my face. Can you believe it?" He flipped his dark hair out of his eyes, smiling, hoping she would respond in kind. "Me? As I am so very handsome, do you not think?"

"Um…I guess so?" _He__'__s __asking __about __his __looks?_

"Danke." _Well, __at __least __she __isn__'__t __running __away._

"But who are you? Are you with them… or that pissed off badger that's been chasing me?" She rubbed her left arm with her bare hand, thinking, _Why __am __I __just __standing __here __calmly? __I __don__'__t __know __him __and __he __just __appeared __out __of __smoke! __Smelly __smoke... __I__'__m __in __some __stranger__'__s __backyard __that __probably __has __a __gun __aimed __right __at __us __and __I__'__m __being __chased __by __some __crazy __person __with __10 __foot __claws __for __hands? __I __have __lost __my __mind. __It__'__s __gone, __gone, __gone. __No __brain __function. _Rogue struggled to remain calm, to breathe normally or else she would drop right here. She was exhausted, having trouble keeping up with everyone and everything changing all in one night – _I __need __a __scorecard! _She intensely hoped that this poofing guy meant her no harm. She could use the break. _So __tired, __but __he __seems __friendly __enough__…_

"Badger?" Kurt could not remember ever being so confused. _Is __she __in __her __right __mind? __Who__'__s __the __badger?_

"Yeah, with the claws – bear, badger, aardvark – whatever he is. He tried to kill me in my home. Why kill me? But it wasn't my home. Then the one with lightning. It's been a very confusing night. I was him, but now I'm me. At least I _think _I'm me. I don't know which way is up and which way is home. I've never been here before. At least, I _think_ I've never been here before." Rogue looked up at him. Her emerald eyes pleading, "I don't remember," ending on a whisper.

Kurt was startled, while the Professor had informed them about her gift; he had not known the mental or physical toll, or how she would be affected. _She __must __be __so __scared. _He desperately wanted to help her, especially now. She did seem to be thinking about what he had said. _Maybe __I__'__m __getting __to __her... and __that __means __I __can __help __her._ Behind her, he could see Kitty phasing through the fence. _Good __reinforcements. __Kitty __will __be __good __for __help. _Then he saw Kitty lunge. _Nicht, __this __is __not __good!_

"Kitty, NO!"

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_Half-pint? __Really? __I__'__ll __show __him!_ Kitty huffed, fumed, and wanted to prove herself. She could handle herself. _They __all __treat __me __with __kid __gloves __like __I__'__m __some __sort __of __princess._Kitty could not make out what was being said through the fence, but it did not matter. Kurt only needed to keep the mutant in the same place long enough for the team to come grab her. _After __all, __the __Professor __says __she__'__s __dangerous. __You __know, __we __shouldn__'__t __take __any __chances._ She phased through the fence. "She doesn't look so tough to me." The mutant's attention was solely focused on Kurt. _We__'__ve __got __her!_ Kitty lunged and heard Kurt yell, "Kitty, NO!" Already launched, Kitty tackled her hard – even Logan would have been proud. _I __got __her! _They hit the ground together, but Kitty found herself thrown off, quite easily, as if she were the weight of a mere feather.

Kurt tried to grab the girl, but she was ready now and fought until her hand was free to push him away. Rogue fought hard, slamming her fist on his wrist, trying to break his hold, but instead found his inducer. Instantly, he changed from 'normal' person to a blue-furry-golden-eyed _Chipmunk? __No, __more __like __a __lemur. __It __doesn__'__t __matter __what __he __is! _"Let me go!" pushing him away only to accidentally touch his face.

Kurt tried to hold her, but she was fighting for her life. _If __I __can __just __win __back __her __trust__ – __calm __her __down. _Once she hit his wrist, he knew she could see his face. His _real_ face. _Oh __no!_ He had no idea what to do now; he searched for help. _Where__'__s __Wolverine? __She__'__ll __never __trust __me __now. __She__'__ll __think __I __lied! _She yelled and shoved him, but her hands were coming for his face. Too late, he let her go. Too late, she realized what she'd done. His world went slowly black, hers sizzled with electricity.

Rogue fell backwards, and inhaled, disappearing in a putrid plume.

···················

Kurt felt himself sinking slowly. As if, he were sinking into his bed, but it felt so much harder, and cold, and wet. He could feel the fall, but was helpless to stop it as the lights dimmed. He could hear a distant Kitty, "Nightcrawler, Nightcrawler!" He wanted to answer her, but she was too far away. She'd never be able to hear him. On his knees, he could feel himself sluggishly turn as he landed. Almost like a dream. For a moment, it felt as if Kitty were touching his arm. All at once, nothing.

···················

Instantaneously, Rogue arrived in a cemetery, along with some very sour smelling smoke. She coughed and fanned her face. _What __in __the __world?_ Looking around, she quickly deduced she did not have the faintest where she _actually_ was. _What __is __going __on, __already? _"What just happened? Where am I? And Ich verstehe deutsche. I can speak German? The fuzzy one – Kurt. I'm him….like I was Cody." Rogue beheld her hands, they felt as if they were on fire, but she could clearly see they were not. Her limbs were numb yet burned. Her body electrified, sizzling with each breath. Her head ached, worse than previously. She _felt _like Kurt. She knew what he knew, what he had been thinking, and who he was exactly how she had believed she was Cody. Rogue wanted to make sense of this. She tried to focus her anguished mind. Even though her head throbbed, she attempted to listen to the voices inside. Understanding dawned. "I think I'm catching on now. But how did I?" closing her eyes, focusing, she disappeared in a puff of acidic air, to find herself atop an ancient mausoleum. _I __think __got __it!_

Concentrating, Rogue teleported all across the cemetery; on top of mausoleums, headstones, pathways. It was almost freeing. She smiled as she ported from place to place, giggled as she discovered this new ability. It was like flying – almost. Thinking about each destination, Rogue found herself appearing there shortly after each thought. _Amazing! __I __could __go __anywhere! __My __power __is __so __neat! __Wait, __it__'__s __not __mine, __it__'__s __his__ – __Kurt__'__s._ She landed on an old worn concrete bench, which promptly deposited her on the ground as it crumbled. _Crumbled. __Just __like __me. __I__'__m __falling __apart. _She sat in the rubble of the bench. In truth, Rogue had nowhere to go. She thought about Cody and Kurt, staring at her hands - one bare, one gloved. _Were __they __dead? __Did __I __kill __them? __Is __that __my __skin __condition __that __Irene __has __pounded __into __me __all __these __years?_ She wondered just what had she done to them. _What __am __I? __Death?_ Rogue hoped not.

She still felt like Cody. She still felt like Kurt. She wondered if she would ever feel like _her_ again. The answer was simple: no. Rogue would never be the same. She wanted to wake up from this nightmare. _This __ain__'__t __no __dream __though. _ She would not wake up at home, and return to her regular life; because _she _was not the same anymore. Her life was not the same anymore. She had changed. In a touch. Rogue looked at her bare right hand. Her index fingernail was chipped. She examined every line in the flesh. She inspected her rings on her fingers. She scrutinized each pore. Just a touch. It did not make sense. She could not fathom. She had done all this in a touch. Everything. Gone. In just a touch.

Rogue pulled her legs from the fragments of debris up to her chest, placing her head on her knees, wrapping her arms around herself, praying for a reprieve.

"When is this all going to end?"

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Kitty rolled Kurt towards her, "Nightcrawler, Nightcrawler!" She held his hand, checking for a pulse, she checked his breathing as well. _He__'__s __alive!_ She begged him to wake up and tease her. He did not move. _Stay __calm __Kitty. _Kitty worked hard to keep calm. _Where __is __Wolverine? _"What would Wolverine do? I mean, besides dice up like half the landscape?" She looked at Kurt, "Wait, the Professor can read minds, right?" _Maybe __he __can __hear __my __thoughts..._ Kitty focused, closing her eyes, yet still holding Kurt's hand.

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The second team of Jean, Ororo, and Scott regrouped at the van with Professor Xavier, after having no success in finding the mutant on the run. Professor Xavier explained that the trail had become cold and could no longer track the young mutant. He could no longer sense Cody's brainwave patterns. Charles contemplated aloud with Jean that perhaps this meant that transference was temporary, which he surmised would make her difficult, if not impossible to track or find.

Logan vaulted over the nearby fence, with a solution, stating simply, "Try about ten gardens due west. Kurt's trying to keep her from bolting."

"Then we must..." Charles could not finish his thought for the voice screaming in his mind.

_PROFESSOR, __PROFESSOR!_ Kitty reported, _It__'__s __Kurt, __she __hurt __him...she __did __something __to __him._ While she was trying hard not to panic, but she was alone, and Kurt was not responding. They had not trained for this, at least Kitty had not. Xavier informed the others of the situation.

Logan unsheathed his claws, feeling his anger rise as his sympathy for the girl faded. "This is my fault; I shouldn't have left the little squirrel in charge." He swiftly jumped the same fence, running full speed to reach Kurt and Kitty. She was alone, Kurt was hurt, and he blamed himself. He pushed himself, worry driving him harder and faster. He knew he needed to get to the kids immediately.

Charles focused solely on Kurt's brainwaves, using his powers. "I'm getting a clear reading on Kurt's brainwave patterns. She's more focused each time she uses her power. You three, go ahead, I'll guide you." He stayed at the van and communicated telepathically with the team. He discovered she was in a nearby cemetery. He hoped they would arrive in time.

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Jean saw her first. She was backed up against a large headstone, elbows on knees, head down. Informing the teams, _I__'__ve __found __her. __I__'__m __going __to __approach. _Jean strode slowly but purposefully towards her. Hoping for the best, Jean simply greeted with, "Hi," and waited for her reaction.

"Do-Do I know you? These memories – I'm so confused. I think I know you, but it's Kurt, isn't it? Not me. It's too much..." Rogue closed her eyes, holding her head. It hurt, her body in misery, and this night had been nowhere near what she had planned when she left home. _And __it__'__s __never __going __to __end..._

"Yeah, I know. I can relate to what you're going through." Jean ached to reach her. While she did not know exactly what the girl was feeling Jean did understand about the loss of control over one's gifts. From what the Professor had told them, anyone the young girl touched was drained -to what extent had yet to be determined.

"Jean, you're Jean Grey!" Rogue stood in realization, "You're like the others!" Her eyes darted back and forth, seeking escape. Backing away to run, she stopped when Jean comforted, "Relax! If you know who I am, then you _know_ I won't hurt you."

Jean continued as Rogue stopped. "Look it's tough to go it solo. Hey, zero pressure, but if you want to talk more," She opened her hand revealing a small device even as the girl flinched, "you can reach me anytime with this communicator." She closed her eyes, focusing on sending the device through the air to the scared girl.

She took the small black rectangle within her bare hand. Looking from Jean to her hand, Rogue seemed to visibly relax. _Maybe __she__'__s __like __Kurt. __I __know __about __her __because __he __knows __her... oh __my __head!_

Jean informed her, "It doesn't matter what time of day or night, I'll answer. I want to help you. I keep my communicator with me all the time, no matter what – I never leave home without it. Come to think of it, I'm never home without it either." She smiled encouraged by the girl's curiosity.

The girl stared at the tiny contraption, turning it over in her hands. A small flame of hope sparked in that instant. She glanced back at Jean. A slight smile formed on her lips, "Latest fashion accessory, huh?"

Scott and Ororo caught up behind Jean in time to hear the last part of the conversation. Seeing that Jean had given her a communicator, Ororo commented, "We all have one."

The young mutant turned a shocked face toward the advancing pair. Her expression so frightened that even Scott turned wondering what the girl saw.

"Y...You...you! NO! You won't take me!" The terrified girl took off at running from the ones who sought to help.

"No, wait!" Scott ran to her, losing his footing, falling into a pool of mud.

Jean was at a complete loss. "I don't get it. We were connecting and then..."

Ororo filled in the blank, "And then she saw me. For some reason, she's afraid of me."

"Well, she looked pretty beat. She can't have gone far," said Scott wiping mud from his face. "Let's spilt up and try to find her. Wolverine will be on the way once he gets to Shadowcat and Nightcrawler. But let's find her before then - calm her down, and find out what's got her so scared. I'll head east, Jean, you take west, and Storm, you got the sky." The team spilt up to look for the runaway.

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Rogue found an open mausoleum, stumbled in, and slammed down beside the tomb between the tall decorative urns. Breathing hard, clutching the communicator, she could not have been more confused. Earlier, that woman had thrown lightning at her, but now was with Jean - who was with Kurt who wanted to help. _Nothing __about __tonight __makes __sense!_ Rogue screamed inside her raw battered mind. She rocked, curled tight against the slab, shaking, heart racing, and body begging for rest. Suddenly Rogue heard a noise above her, she gasped, and crawled around the coffin, and nervously looked up.

The guy, who had chased her yelling, leapt through the cutout in the mausoleum ceiling. He came straight at her, shouting, "Thought you could escape us, did you? The X-men don't leave loose ends!" He easily pushed over a large iron urn, driving a second vessel right at her. Narrowly avoiding being crushed, Rogue scrambled out through the opening slamming into the exact same person. Completely baffled, Rogue screamed and shoved him as she ran back into the crypt.

Scott was stunned when he collided with the terrified girl, but before he could utter one sound, she screamed and pushed him. He slipped on the wet stone steps, falling into another, larger mud pool hard. He hit the ground painfully and could not control the optic blast of red energy, which hit the utility tower, severing it near the top. It sent sparks in nearly every direction as it crashed to the ground.

Running back inside the vault, Rogue almost crashed into Jean. However, Jean was now yelling, "I tried, I really did, but some people just won't be helped!" holding her hand menacingly at Rogue. Retreating, Rogue inhaled a whimper and disappeared in a billow. Finding herself at a paralyzing height above ground, and dropping at a dizzying speed, Rogue shrieked, teleporting feet from the dirty ground, and landed with a thump.

Jean saw the entire teleport and rushed to Rogue's side, "Are you hurt? Lie still, don't try to move." Rogue sat up, digging her boots into the mud and dirt, pushing herself away from the very person who had just attacked her. Ororo landed nearby and hurried over to help the confused girl. As she approached, questioned, "Child, what is it? We are your friends," Ororo kneeled down for a more non-threatening presence. She attempted to explain, "We have come to..." but Rogue twisted, grabbing her exposed wrist.

Electricity met lightning.

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The pain was intense; Rogue gritted her teeth against the onslaught of fire that sought to consume her. She struggled to release the woman, but they seemed polarized, trapped opposites pushing against, yet attached to one another. Rogue felt as though her flesh were seared by the contact. Each woman fought for freedom from the other. The touch felt as though it lasted an eternity, but it was mere seconds. Rogue's skin ignited, nerves ablaze, mind pounding, when abruptly Ororo, unconscious, was thrown clear into a large puddle of watery mud.

A shrill storm swept throughout Rouge's body, an all-consuming burning raged to life full of agony torturing every fiber of her being as she was swept up into the dark night sky. Every emotion and thought released itself onto the black night with hurricane force winds, an onslaught of rain, thunder, and lightning. Trees toppled and tombs collapsed from the brunt of the violent tempest. Lightning crashed around Rogue as her arms splayed out in sheer strain and torment caused by the power absorption from Ororo. Her limbs were on fire despite the downpour that raged; her mind pulsated along with the thunder; her skin was scorched even as hail beat down.

Jean and Scott tried to brave the elemental assault Rogue had unknowingly created, but it was of little use. "She's got Storm's powers, but not her control," Scott shouted over the winds. Nearby power lines took a strike of lightning, "The power lines! If they hit that water, Storm will be fried!" The two ran to Storm's aid, Scott plummeting into the freezing pool, taking Ororo into his arms, as Jean lifted them telekinetically. "I can't keep us up for long..." she cried.

The pain was unbearable for Rogue, she felt as though her limbs were being severed, her bones mere tinder for the fire burning within. Her body and mind already battered, she was unable to defend against the personification of her inner tug of war. This was simply too much for her. She wailed in agony, "Too much power...I can't control it...I have to..." jade eyes wide - full of excruciating pain, she vanished in a vapor.

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	2. Follow the Leader

**Follow the Leader**

Kitty moved Kurt's head into her lap and brushed his dark blue hair from his face. "Kurt, just hold on, help is coming. It's probably Mr. Logan - we'll know if we hear slashing and screams of pain." No movement. "Come on, Kurt, wake up! You know I'm still not big on facial hair, but the pointy ears are starting to work for me." Nothing. "Ok, if you wake up and everything, I promise I won't be mean to you again." No reaction. "Ah Kurt, I'm so sorry about being mean. I just want you to wake up right now!" on the verge of tears, Kitty saw Logan jump the fence out of the corner of her eye. "Oh, Mr. Logan, thank God you're here. He won't wake up and I don't know what to do!"

"It's the rogue's power, Half-pint, she sucks the life right out of ya. He'll recover, we think," ending on a mumble; but Kitty only focused word 'recover'. "Well, good then, Hey! Where's everyone else?"

"Yeah, we need to head out pronto to catch up with them at the cemetery." Lightning sizzled across the sky. "Looks like Storm's already there. Let's move out," picking up Kurt, Logan sprinted out of the yard and onto the street, followed closely by Kitty.

"Yeah, it looks like Storm's putting up a heck of a fight."

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Logan and Kitty met up with the Professor outside the cemetery, entering, unprepared for what they saw. The unpredicted storm was receding as Jean .owered herself, Scott, and Ororo to the ground. Electricity still buzzed on the down power lines, and huge pools of dirty water covered the terrain. Ororo lay unconscious in Scott's arms as Jean ran to their sides.

Taking in the carnage around them, _we were extremely unprepared for her._ Charles refocused his attention on his students, "Is everyone alright?"

"She grabbed Storm, tried to blow us all away and then disappeared. I would say that we are not ok," replied Scott. "How's Nightcrawler?"

Wolverine glanced at the azure boy in his arms, "He needs some rest. She takes a lot out of a person," eyeing the Professor.

"What do you think happened to the rogue?" questioned Scott.

"Ah, she's gone...somewhere. Her mind is a jumble, I can't trace it. But I strongly suspect the hand of another at work here."

"Hmph, Mystique," sniffing the air, Logan growled, "She can change her body but not her scent."

Kitty, holding her side, said, "Then we _have_ to go after her!"

"No, Kitty, there's been enough damage done today and the girl must come of her own freewill or not at all," said the Professor a bit too harshly; then softening, "And we must first tend to our own." Charles gave a look to Logan. Logan nodded his reply.

Kurt awoke, moaning, "Looks like I missed quite a party." Logan set him down, but held onto his arm. He was not yet steady on his feet. Kitty squealed and reached for him, "Kurt! You're alright. Yay!" Kurt nearly fainted. "Easy, you fuzzy elf, everything is going to be just fine," as Kitty aided him back to the van.

Scott shot a look at Jean as they helped a shaky Ororo to her feet, "Fuzzy elf? I thought she was mad at him." Jean shrugged, "Who knows with kids today?" Logan snorted.

Logan waited as the kids exited the cemetery, then turned to the Professor, "Well Charles, she pretty much handed us our as..."

"Logan."

"...butts. She took out two of us without even trying and I think Kitty is more hurt than she's letting on," he removed his mask and ran his fingers through his hair. "Heck, she didn't even _know_ what she was doing and took out Storm! Storm! I know you said the girl was powerful, but..."

"Yes, I know, old friend. I realize now I underestimated her. Her ability is astounding. If I did not know better, I would say that she had been trained. And I did not anticipate Mystique's involvement. But we will learn more from the debriefing, the students will help us to make a better determination. We should not jump to conclusions for now." Charles hoped to calm Logan, but his own heart feared what may come. The two began to exit the graveyard slowly.

Sighing, Logan stopped the Professor, "Chuck, I think it's high time we prepared for the worst."

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Upon their arrival back at the Institute, Logan exited the jet first carrying Ororo, then Scott limped out carrying Kurt. Both he and Ororo had slipped back into unconsciousness once on the Blackbird. This concerned the Professor greatly. He ordered everyone to meet in the infirmary. "Clearly, the rogue's power is more draining than we believed." Logan replied with a snort, heading for the medical unit.

Jean helped Kitty slowly down the stairs as Kitty gritted her teeth and inhaled sharply with each step. There more injuries than at first thought. Kurt also had a bruised wrist, and Ororo had an odd burn on hers. Scott had a concussion, as well as a sprained ankle, but at least he was conscious and Jean was intent on keeping him that way. Kitty had bruised ribs from 'wrestling' the rogue. Logan had actually growled when he saw the huge blackening bruise on her left side since Kitty had claimed she was unhurt. "She flipped me like a Mack truck," Kitty gritted out as Jean wrapped her ribcage, "and I didn't want you to think, like, I couldn't handle it," glancing at Logan.

Suddenly Logan felt an overwhelming sense of protectiveness. Of course, his job was to protect the students and his team, but seeing the Elf and Half-pint hurt had almost been Logan's breaking point. He felt a rage boiling up inside and knowing he would only inflict more damage if he tried to help. So he ended up leaning against the wall near the door, taking in the damage done by the fiery redhead. He, Jean, and the Professor were the only ones without real injuries, but Logan was mad. He was more than mad. The girl had taken out half the team and he was furious...at himself. He wanted to punch something. Logan growled. No, he wanted want to punch a lot of somethings. He felt responsible – _I should have been there and the Elf wouldn't have been hurt. If only I'd been there...It's my fault. Look at the Half-pint. _Kitty's pained squeak made him stand straight up, hands balled into fists, every nerve alert; he believed that even his hair was at full attention.

_I let the kid handle it alone and now look at the team. I should have prepared them better. I'm responsible._

The Professor was tending to Ororo, even as he spoke softly to the unconscious African woman. After he finished, he turned to the remaining conscious members of the team, "Since we are obviously in no shape for any sort of discussion, we'll try to hold a meeting tomorrow depending on when Kurt and Ororo are able." Looking towards Logan, he added, "If _everyone _is able."

Logan punched the wall and walked out. Charles sighed. He followed after Logan, finding him in the hall. Logan stood right outside the door, claws out, breathing hard. Xavier waited for Logan. "All of this is my fault, Chuck. It won't happen next time. I'll have them all ready...or else I'll take her down myself!" He retracted his claws, slammed his fist into his open palm, and stormed off.

Xavier rubbed his temple, feeling a world of pain for everyone – everyone was exhausted and bruised – whether from actually getting battered or the ego beating. He had taken a beating of his own tonight. He simply did not understand why – beyond Mystique – they had been unable to reach the girl. She probably did not even know what had happened or what she had done to them. He felt tremendous sorrow for the rogue. Charles knew that he'd have to discover what had actually happened tonight, and if need be, they would have to try again. He turned, looking after his old friend. _Yes, we'll try again, but after some much needed changes to our training. _He then returned to the medbay.

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Rogue stumbled out of the teleport, fanning the fumes from her face. Sweeping her hair from her eyes, she found herself at an old church. She was miles from where her night began at the lakefront; and about a mile from the ancient cemetery. The air around her still sizzled with electricity. Her head was pounding, as if a giant orchestra had taken up residence there within the last hours, and they were practicing relentlessly – out of tune. Dusting herself off, she walked up to the church, hoping it was open, as fog began to envelop her. Sighing, she concentrated until the mist cleared. _Anything I feel translates into weather. How did she control that?_ _How do I control it? _

She wanted to sit down and cry, but she refused to let herself. She was strong, not weak. That was something she had learned long ago. You never show weakness – ever. She just wanted to wake up from this nightmare, but mostly she wanted the pain to go away. Her limbs ached, but she continued, hoping to find a phone to call someone_._ Rogue arrived at the doors, opening them, just as it began to rain. _What an awesome power – everyone knows how you feel today...great. _Whether Rogue was creating the rain or not, she didn't care because it didn't matter.

She found a pew and sat down, staring up at the pulpit in the front. _WHY?!_ She wanted to yell, but instead she thought of the beautiful mocha woman with the snowy hair. Rogue had heard her cry of pain, saw her tossed across the graveyard after her powers had been drained. _Did I kill her too? _Rogue looked up to the front of the church – no answers returned. She had plenty of questions, but could not voice them. _I should find a phone. _Her mind was racing with thoughts that did not even belong to her. Rogue felt lost – as if what made her herself had been ripped instantly from her body, her world. Now, she felt as though nothing and no one could fix that. She wrapped her arms around her waist, trying to hold 'it' in. Where ever this mysterious 'it' was, Rogue knew the importance, and wanted 'it' back. She willed herself back in time to correct whatever had gone wrong – whatever she had done wrong. _I'm a killer._

She never heard the soft tapping.

"Ah, I found you. I've been looking everywhere."

Rogue jumped at the loudness of the voice in the quiet of the old church. She looked up to find a familiar face, Irene. Rogue almost ran to embrace her before remembering the rule: no touch. Of course, now she knew why. Scrambling to her feet, "Irene! What's going on? What am I? Is this my _condition_? I think I'm going crazy - people are chasing me, these thoughts in my head, people are trying to kill me and I think...I think I killed three people! Are they dead?! WHAT AM I?!" she ended on a near shriek. She could feel herself losing control. She took a deep breath.

"Oh my dear child, it's okay. I knew this would happen. I've brought someone for you – a friend of mine. Come with me." The blind woman turned and walked from the church expecting Rogue to follow. Shocked, Rogue did.

"Irene, what do you mean 'you knew this would happen'? Did I kill those people? What the..." Rogue started when she saw the limo outside and despite the rules, grabbed Irene's arm.

"Rogue, it's alright." She pulling her arm from the tight grasp, "I had a friend waiting for us. She will answer all your questions. She'll explain everything." She opened the door, motioning for Rogue to enter. Hesitantly, she stepped inside vaguely noticing that Irene was wearing gloves. Before she could comment, she saw Irene's friend.

The Friend was turquoise with flaming red hair and gleaming sulfur eyes. Rogue could not contain the gasp, and probably would have leapt from the car had Irene not sat down, blocking her escape. "Hello Rogue. I've been so anxious to meet you." Although the woman smiled, Rogue could not help but feel apprehensive under the golden gaze. Rogue shivered and it had nothing to do with her unintentional downpour or her wet clothes.

"Drive." The woman called, closing the glass divider. The limo pulled out of the lot. "I'm sure you have many questions and we'll get to those. But first, let's get you somewhere safe and I'll tell you everything."

Mystique sat back in her seat, crossing her arms. She could not help but feel quite pleased with herself. She had already planned for this moment and everything had worked out in her favor even if Xavier had shown up. She had beaten the X-men at their own game, and Rogue had taken out two of them by herself without even understanding the full extent of her powers. _This should make him very happy._ Then a thought occurred to her, Mystique smiled, "Rogue," nearly startling the girl off the seat, "Naturally, for your own safety, we'll need to move you. What do you think about New York?"

Rogue felt her jaw hit the floor of the car, but no words came.

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She told herself _in theory_ this Mystique had explained everything. She told herself _in theory_ they'd answered all her questions. She told herself _in theory_ they made a persuasive argument. She told herself _in theory _their idea might be a good one. She told herself _in theory_ she'd be safer elsewhere. She told herself _in theory_ a lot of things over the last three days, but 'herself' was not listening today or any day for that matter. 'Herself' had always had trouble with decisions being made for her. 'Herself' did not like being backed into a corner either.

However, she knew she really did not have a choice – they weren't giving her one. She was either going willingly or not, according to Irene's friend. Whether Rogue liked it or not, she would be going to New York for what was _in theory _for her own safety to someplace called "Bayville". Rogue was supposed to be packing her life for the last five years; instead she was standing in the middle of her room staring at the empty case. It seemed trying to pack up her life without much success had led to the need for debates. They had informed her she would probably not be returning to Mississippi anytime soon.

They had also informed her that until they left, she could not see her friends or even leave the house. She had become a prisoner in a place she'd only recently begun to think of as home. Irene had taken her out of school as well, much to Rogue's dismay and ongoing protests. Rogue had argued that she should continue until the day they left, but Mystique believed it to be too risky. She had been informed the X-men would find her at the school or alone outside and kidnap her. Mystique said it was incredibly dangerous...at least _in theory._

Rogue was sure she could no longer trust her foster mother, Irene. She was pretty darn sure she felt the same about this Mystique, but after that night her world had tumbled upside down out of control – worse than the best roller coaster she'd ever ridden; she really didn't know what to believe anymore or who to trust. She had begun to wonder if she'd ever trusted Irene. Too much had been left unanswered. She'd asked questions, and Mystique had explained everything...at least _in theory._

That's the problem with theories however, they were just that – theories. Rogue was still wading through the web of memories entangling her mind, and those did not add up with Mystique's explanations. In fact, they were complete opposites. Someone was lying. _In reality._

Rogue walked over to her dresser, pulling out the third drawer entirely as her shirts fell onto the floor. She reached back into the small space, pulling out a box, which had been taped to the back of the cabinet hidden by the false back of the drawer. Opening the box, she stared at the black device. She glanced around the room. Irene and Mystique had left her alone to pack while they made 'arrangements', but Rogue still felt as if their eyes were on her. Carefully, she turned the communicator on. Nothing. She turned it off.

She'd all but forgotten about the small device until it began making noise late one night. She quickly discovered how to turn it off before the older women caught her with it. Mystique had asked some very specific questions concerning the "X-men". Rogue insisted she had no answers, no memory of the events which seemed to satisfy the blue woman immensely. Over the last two days, Rogue listened in on several conversations over the little communicator. There were discussions from the best way to break into a warehouse to who was up for raiding the cookie jar. She had been highly amused over the cookie jar mission. Rogue smiled at the memory. It was to be around three a.m., and the one named 'Shadowcat' was to sneak in and snitch the treats for 'Nightcrawler' in the medbay then the others would join with the milk. It had all appeared to be in good fun.

Rogue frowned. They seemed like a family, like it was fun, but Mystique had called them hunters, killers. _Nothing is adding up._ _Do killers still want cookies?_ Rogue thought back to the conversation between herself, Irene, and their new friend. While she had been most concerned with the three she'd touched, Mystique brushed them aside; wholly focused on the manipulative X-men. How they would hunt her down, imprison her, use her for her powers, and then discard her when they were done. But it just did not match up with the thoughts she'd absorbed from the furry one, Kurt or the one named Ororo.

Instantly as if Rogue had somehow ordered it, Ororo's memory of Rogue appeared in her mind's eye. Rogue could see herself clearly, through the stately lady. In the same manner she'd been Cody, Rogue 'became' Ororo. Walking up to Jean, Rogue saw herself looking like a scared kitten, holding the communicator. "We all have one." Rogue saw herself jerk, terror in her eyes towards the sound, "Y...You...you! NO! You won't take me!" She watched herself intently as she ran from them, leaving them...astounded and genuinely confused. Rogue heard herself as Ororo say, "And then she saw me. For some reason, she's afraid of me."

Then as suddenly as the memory came, it was gone. She put her hand over her heart; it was beating in time with a hummingbird's wings. With her memory had come her emotions. The woman felt sorry for Rogue, full of compassion, and aching to help. She sunk to the floor, gripping the communicator in one hand while the other rubbed her throbbing head. _Is it true? Did they really want to help? Who do I trust?_ It was a vicious cycle.

Sitting on the floor, Rogue argued with herself. Mystique had left no room for disagreement. The X-men were bad. She was going to New York. But the thoughts from the two were completely different. They were there to help her. They were like her. _Even the furry one told you that. _'Herself' was making some good points here. Rogue threw her hands in the air. _If I keep this up, I won't be going to New York – I'll be headed to the loony bin down the road! _She shivered. She had no doubts Mystique would put her in Whitfield tomorrow if need be...and that was not an option.

She took a deep breath. She had to decide now, before they both came back to the house – knowing they'd pack for her – she'd already been warned. Rogue was no follower – she was a leader, but she knew what the alternative was to not going along with Mystique. She would be on her own, running. She'd been there, done that; and if need be, do it again. But she reasoned with herself, New York was huge and made a great place to become lost. She ran gloved fingers through her silky scarlet and ivory strands.

"I am not a victim. I decide." She said in the quiet of the room.

She stood, eyes closed, smoothed her green skirt, inhaled deeply, confirming the decision. For now, Rogue would go along with this insane plan, for now, she'd play this game; but she knew deep down if need be, she'd run again. But before that happened, she needed something, something special that would be her insurance if necessary. But right now, she needed to pack. Something. Anything.

"Alright, pack." She said aloud, forcing herself to pack something, before she went looking for her policy. With that, she removed her bright purple gloves and tossed them over her shoulder and into the bag, as she headed downstairs.

_There. I started. I packed something._

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**Just a quick note: Unlike the previous chapters there will probably not be anymore quotes from the actual show. I used those lines because I feel they feed the story well. Please continue to enjoy!**


	3. I Spy

**I Spy**

Three days had turned into five before she knew it. Rogue headed out into the yard with a packet of seeds. Even though she needed to get away, Irene would not let her leave the house – Mystique's new rule. Before the rule had been instated, Rogue had enjoyed walking around the nearby lake, feeding the ducks and geese and watching the turtles skim the surface. She had tried sneaking out there, but Mystique had caught her, "You know it's not safe for you alone, right dear?" Her tone just shy of biting, the words did little to comfort Rogue. She just needed some alone time, preferably outside alone time. Unable to stand the walls any longer, she set out for her garden in Irene's back yard.

She craved the fresh air, grass, the luscious evergreens...the freedom. She stopped on the porch, removing her shoes before proceeding across the grass barefoot. Finding a spot, she knelt, grass to bare knees, and dug bare handed into the soil. She had picked out a perennial, Amsonia also called bluestar, thinking she'd be here to watch it bloom each year. Furrowing her brow, _I got too comfortable. I tried to make a 'home'. I tried to make something belong to me…_

Rogue surveyed the garden. All of these flowers, she had planted. She loved the feel of connecting to the earth, digging, getting her hands dirty. It was her anchor. With the warnings about touch, the rules, and boundaries set up for her, Rogue had been about to blow when she started this garden. It was her therapy. And with all the rules Irene had, Rogue needed therapy.

Rogue inhaled her planted rainbow. The smells so sweet, taking her back in time. She had begun years ago, still a child. At first, she'd planted mostly annuals that only last just for a season. But as months stretched into years, she began to plant perennials, which return each season. She took in the colorful array she had grown. Yellows melted into oranges and reds, next to the purples bleeding into the blues where she currently sat.

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Mystique walked over to the window where Irene stood, her hand on the windowsill. She gently laid her own hand over Irene's, spying Rogue outside. "Do you think we were too hard on her, Raven?"

Mystique wrapped her arm around Irene's shoulder, "Perhaps, but she must believe me. This is the only way. I must have her with me. Her power...it's what we need to take him down. We cannot follow blindly any longer. We have to think of ourselves, our future. She will help make that a reality. She is our future."

Irene turned to Mystique, resting her head on the woman's shoulder. "I've come to... care for her. I'm tired of lying to her. We should tell her. _The truth_."

Mystique took Irene by the shoulders, pulling her back, taking in her strained face. "My love, we cannot. It's much too soon. I need her with me first, where I can train her. Now that her powers are manifested, I can make her unstoppable. You've seen the future, you tell me – can we do it without her?"

Irene sighed, took off her glasses, exposing blind eyes, "No. Not without Rogue."

"Then it's settled."

They both turned back to watch Rogue in the garden. "Does she look happy, Raven?"

"I'm not sure. Her back is to us."

Irene gave a sad smile. "She always feels like that to me. Almost as if I've barely scratched the surface of who she is..." After a brief pause, "Why not allow her out, out of the house, the yard. Let her go to her friend's or the lake? She'll follow the rules. Rogue has been obedient since..."

"Yes, I know," Mystique interrupted. Irene turned to her again, cupping her face with both hands.

"Soon all of this will be but a memory for her. Let her be a teenager while she still can. Let her go."

Mystique reached for Irene's hands capturing them within her own and kissed them, "For you. I will let her, for you. But not in the way you want. She can go to the lake or her friend's, but I'm not letting her go...Not until she's done what I need her for."

"I know, I know," Irene replied defeated, moving back to the window.

Even with the future being foretold, it was not enough to ease Mystique's troubled mind. Looking over Irene's shoulder, she could see Rogue leaning back in the grass – a smile on her face; and for a moment Mystique felt sorry for these choices she'd made. But the moment was fleeting. Mystique had plans, plans for which Rogue was required. This was their future – hers and Irene's. There was no time to consider anyone's feelings...even Irene's.

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Outside, and unaware of the women watching, Rogue began to enjoy the garden created by her own hands. She could hear the ducks at the lake quaking happily, a mower in the distance, and faint cricks of katydids. She closed her eyes soaking up the smells of fresh turned soil and crisp cut grass. Feeling the soft breeze caress her face, she ran dirty fingers through her hair, soiling her locks. She didn't care because for the moment she was relaxed, feeling free, and unencumbered. She turned, stretched her legs in front of her, wiggling her toes in the grass, and leaned back onto her hands. She was enjoying the feel of the wind, smelling someone's barbeque and the smell of caraway, garlic, and...marjoram..._Is that a rostbratwurst? A Thüringer rostbratwurst? Oh it reminds me of growing up in Germany...Oh, wie ich vermisse es!_

Rogue bolted upright, eyes wide. _What just happened? Those aren't _my_ memories! It's that lemur...Kurt._ _He grew up in Germany, not me. _"Mystique said their memories might pop into my head...but it was like I was there, I could smell...I knew the taste, but...it's not me."

Rogue stood up, brushed the grass off her denim shorts, and headed for the house; seeds forgotten.

"I ain't even alone in my own head!"

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It had taken almost a week for the students to feel up to debriefing. Each team took seats on opposite sides of the table while Logan stood behind his team. Scott's ankle was healing as was Ororo's burn. Kitty's bruises were purple turning green forcing her to ease slowly into the chair. Kurt's wrist, still wrapped sat on the table as a reminder – as if they needed one. The Professor, at the head of the table, had asked a seemingly simple question, but their egos were still healing as well. The question? "How is everyone feeling?" What began with polite replies soon worked into hurt feelings and bruised prides to lash out. Once those flood gates opened, it was talk-all-at-once-no-holds-barred grudge match...against the rogue. The Professor could only pick out pieces of the conversation, if one could call it that.

"We were more than ill prepared, Professor," Scott grumbled, "we were fish in a barrel, and she shot us up pretty good, I'd say."

"Ja."

"Yeah, I'm, like, sore all over."

"Ja!"

"I felt like I was making progress, but then," commented Jean.

"She saw me and ran," interjected Ororo. "She was terrified of me."

"She was. I could smell the fear – everywhere."

"Then out of nowhere she pushes me off the stairs! I never touched her and got a sprained ankle!" Scott spoke on top of Logan.

"Ja, me too. Then she swung at Kitty." cracked Kurt.

"Hey! It's not funny! She's _way_ tougher than she looks!"

"Sorry."

"Everyone, please. I understand that more than our bodies are bruised right now. Clearly our pride took a beating as well, but we _are_ healing and we are _still_ a team. And while that night may not have been entirely successful; we did gain a considerable amount of knowledge. We need to share that knowledge as a team – one at a time. Let's start at the beginning, shall we?" Charles turned to Logan's team on his left, "Logan's team found the rogue first, correct? What were your observations?"

"We..." Logan began.

"She was talking with that blind woman!" interrupted Kitty who jumped out of her chair then groaned loudly.

"What blind woman?" questioned Charles.

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"You mean I can go? As in leave the house?"

"Yes, but..."

"Of course, there's always a but."

"Rogue, you will not speak to Irene that way!" Mystique glared at Rogue. She was breaking her own rules allowing the girl to see friends; the least she could do is show some respect. Xavier might be able to find her if Rogue wasn't careful with them and she did not want to deal with those meddling X-kids right now.

"I didn't mean…" Rogue began quite confused by Mystique's verbal assault.

As if sensing Mystique's distress, Irene placed a hand on her arm. "Mystique, it's ok. Rogue just has cabin fever, right dear?" Irene motioned towards Rogue, as if hinting she needed to agree in order to leave.

"Uh...yeah, cabin fever. It's bad. Need air to live."

Mystique snorted. Irene smiled. Rogue shook her head. It had been over a week of being jailed inside the house she was growing to hate. The two women were driving her crazy, like she did not have enough on her plate: along with packing, stowing necessary items to insure her own safety, the overflow of memories not her own, and hearing those two argue at all hours of the day and night. Then there were the times they weren't arguing. Rogue shuddered. She needed to get out – if only for her own sanity. She had no clue why the women were suddenly letting her visit friends, or even letting her leave the house. However, she was determined not to blow the chance to get away. So she tried a different tactic.

"Seriously, yall, I got to see some folks. People talk," she added nodding solemnly.

Mystique threw her hands in the air. "Fine, but _no touching!_ No one touches you and you touch _no one! _And be back by ten."

Irene added, "In this time zone. Not Pacific, Central. Central Standard Time. I mean it."

"Or _I_ will come for you." Mystique appended.

That was a threat Rogue knew Mystique meant, and she did not want that to happen. There was no way she would be able to explain a blue woman to her friends. But Rogue was getting serious mixed signals here. One minute Mystique was threatening her and in the next she was acting paternal. It was beginning to creep her out. She shivered at the thought of Mystique as a parent.

Though she was apprehensive, Rogue attempted nonchalance and shrugged; but inside she was starting to feel some excitement. Rogue would finally be able to think about something over than her current 'problem' and just be a kid for a brief time. She hurriedly texted her friends, and shot out the door before they could change their minds.

Irene turned towards Mystique, smiling, "Teenagers," which earned her a huffed, "Hmph!" from her partner.

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Once free from the house, Rogue made short time to the lake. In her rush, she'd forsaken a sweater on the chilly night. Even though she was wearing a long sleeve t-shirt, it was thin and the wind off the lake felt like ice on her skin. Looking around, she could see a couple by the gazebo pursuing romance, a few walkers and joggers on the path, and some geese gathered on the left bank for a nap, but no friends. Then she heard the car door slam.

"Rach!" a male voice shouted. Rogue inwardly cringed at the name she'd picked for herself five years ago. _Such a dork. Stupid "Friends"_

"Rachelle! Are you even listening?" A young girl called.

Rogue answered, "Yeah, it's me! I haven't been here long..." Before she could finish the two had wrapped her in a warm embrace. She believed they did not seem to notice her stiffening at their touch, but they had. After a quick glance between them, the two began to talk over each other.

"been days since we saw you..."

"thought you were dead...or worse"

"and your text was weird..."

They ended together, "What's going on?!" Rogue smiled. "Jinx. Yall owe me a coke."

The petit brunette punched the lanky blond in the arm, "Quit copying me!"

He returned with a slap on hers, "Stupid face, _Gail_."

"Ryder, what did I say about calling me 'Gail'?" pointing a slim finger in his face.

"That you liked it?" rolling his sapphire eyes, sticking out his tongue. Rogue giggled. It was good to see them again. They made her feel almost normal again.

"No, I don't like it," she stomped her booted foot.

"Rach, tell _Gail_ that she's a stupid face." He glanced over to Rogue, pointing back at the girl.

"Uh...Yall owe me a coke and its cold out here. Can't we go someplace warm to argue? Or didn't yall get enough of it in the ride here?"

The small brunette laughed and hugged Rogue again, her hazel eyes turned solemn, "Seriously, it's good to see you! You know just how to keep me from killing him," jerking her thumb back at Ryder who only held up his hands at defeat of the tiny girl.

"What can I say? She's a tiny little spitfire," Ryder shrugged out of his lightweight canvas jacket, placing it on Rogue's shoulders. "You never think to dress for the occasion, even though you wear gloves everywhere. Where are you going? The Opera? The ballet? Are they even in town? I mean, right, Abygail?" finally using the poor girl's name properly. Rogue slid her arms into sleeves, enjoying the warmth created from the fleece and remaining from Ryder.

"Yeah, seriously Rach, you started a fashion trend at BHS. Everyone wants to look like Rachelle. Fashion 'Rogue'," using the nickname Abygail had given her. Abygail struck a pose, attempting a Rogue-like look. Ryder pretended to snap pictures.

Rogue laughed, for the first time in over a week. "Yall are a mess, but I love ya!"

Ryder rubbed his hands together, "Alright ladies, to Sonic? For cokes?"

"YES!" the girls agreed. They headed for the car as Ryder shouted, "Jinx!"

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As usual for the night, Sonic in Brandon was packed since it was the local hang-out for the high school kids. And because it's next to the manual car wash, there was always plenty of parking for the teens. "I mean, who washes their car at night?" Abygail randomly wondered aloud effecting ending hers and Ryder's argument over who would pay.

Rogue responded, "I think it all depends on what happened in that car..." Abygail snickered.

Ryder stared, mouth open at the two girls. "Umm...gross." After a thoughtful moment, he said, "You know Rachelle, you're probably right."

"Again, please call me 'Rogue', you know I hate that name." Rogue waved her hand to shoo away her _Friends_ name.

"Oh, relax _Rogue, _it's not like you had a say in your name. Your parents picked it for you. They didn't know what you'd be when you grew up...or that you would be a 'fashion rogue'. You know, it's actually a good nickname for ya." Abygail contemplated, "After all, do I _look_ like an 'Abygail'?" She made a pinched face to prove her point.

"Yes, yes you do," quoted Ryder.

Abygail stared agape at her best friend. Rogue clapped him on his shoulder, "I think she was being rhetorical." Turning to Abygail, "He doesn't know any better Aby. He's just a boy. We can't expect too much," She looked down, shaking her head to demonstrate Ryder was a lost cause.

"Really? This is how yall treat me?" turning critical blue eyes to Rogue, "And I let you borrow my jacket. Give it back," holding out a roughened tanned hand.

"Nope, you _gave_ it to me. It's mine now!" Rogue pulled the jacket closed tighter, turning away from the boy.

Aby howled with laughter, applauding with perfectly painted pink fingertips. "Yall put on a good show! Call New Stage!"

Ryder turned up his nose, "Hmpf!" Then, he softly pushed Rogue's shoulder, just enough to cause a balance loss. "It's gravy," he conceded.

Rogue smiled, thinking just how nice it was to _be_ normal again – even if it was only for tonight. Without worrying about ...well, anything. It was just simple, stupid fun.

"Hey, yall going to _Wafl_ _Hous_?" a guy from their class asked the trio.

All three friends looked down the hill towards the Waffle House, where teens would sometimes go after particularly wild nights. Ryder answered, "Definitely not _Wafl_ _Hous_!" applying the adopted Dutch name everyone used for the twenty-four hour eatery, making the girls chuckle.

"Ok, see yall tomorrow." The boy waved as his group headed out for breakfast.

Aby leaned forward and whispered, "Do they know that Sonic serves breakfast?"

Ryder shrugged – his normal answer for everything, "Maybe they want steak?"

Rogue grinned, "And eggs."

All three burst into laughter as their carhop rolled up on skates to the table where they sat. "Hey yall! Yall got the three Route 44s – coke?"

"Yep. That's us. Here ya go," Abygail paid for everyone's drink, shooting a daring look to Ryder, who'd been determined to pay.

The carhop followed Abygail's gaze, giving the tall rugged boy a flirty smile, "Hey honey, call me," and rolled away.

As the friends walked to the car, Rogue asked, "You gonna call her, Ry?"

Ryder opened Abygail's door, and pausing at Rogue's, "No, love, my heart has always been yours," he opened her door and walked around to the driver's side. "But you know that," he winked.

Abygail nudged Rogue, motioning to their best friend, "Cheese."

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"Ryder, I'm not trying to say anything about anything, but how come you got blankets in your car? You been seeing carhops?" Once back at the lake, Ryder had spread out a blanket for the trio, and they'd ended up star gazing covered with another blanket protecting against the chill.

He sat up, leaning over Rogue, staring deeply into Abygail's hazel eyes, "No, I am not. My heart belongs to you, princess. You know my offer still stands."

Rogue turned her head to Abygail on her right and stage-whispered, "He says that to all the girls."

"Yes, yes I do." resuming his reclined position.

"Well, either way, Ry, I'm glad to have the blankets. For Mississippi, it's way too cold at night." Rogue snuggled deeper.

"It was 85 today, but it's down to sixty degrees..." Ryder began.

"You'd think the fair was in town!" all three finished. It was a well-known fact that once the state fair hit the capital city temperatures dipped and was a common joke.

They slipped into a companionable silence.

"Hey Rogue, did you see that weird plane the other day?" Ryder seemed loud compared to the crickets and geese honking softly on the left bank.

"No. Random, much?"

"Yeah, well, Aby and I were at Miskelly's lot watching planes since you were under house arrest. Yeah, that's what we do for fun without you. It was what? A week ago or so, Abs?"

"Yeah, seems like."

"Anyways, it was all black and looked like one of them stealth planes. It came roaring in about...what an hour after those private jets, Abs?"

"Yeah, seems like," Aby repeated, making a face at Rogue. She whispered softly, "It's all he's talked about this week."

Ryder continued, talking with his hands, pretending to have not heard Abygail, "It was wicked cool is all, Rogue. Wish you'd been there. It tore outta here couple hours later. Wasn't a busy night to the Jackson airport, but since they've cut down all those trees – you get a clear shot watching the planes so it was kinda cool. That plane...jet...whatever was wicked awesome." He sighed, sliding his hands underneath his head, picturing the plane that had captured his imagination for the last week.

Rogue thought back to over a week ago, when her life had changed so drastically. _I'm suppose to be having fun right now._ But her mind stubbornly lingered on the people who'd chased her that night, through yards, over fences, wanting her dead. _In theory_, she reminded herself. Or so Mystique had told her. Rogue shivered.

"Are you still cold?" Ryder asked incredulous. He sat up pulling the blanket up to Rogue's neck. Lying back down, he joked, "Next, you're gonna ask me to go to Home Depot and buy you a heater."

After a while Aby quietly asked, "When you gonna tell us?"

Rogue sighed, "I guess I should tell yall..."

"Yep." Abygail rolled on her left side and touched Rogue's arm. She had noticed Rogue stiffen earlier, but had not said anything; however this time Aby commented, "Rogue, we _know_ about your skin condition and we don't care. It doesn't matter to us, never did, never will. We love you Rachelle – for who you are...and sometimes the jokes you tell."

"I just love you for your jokes." added Ryder, hands still under his head, eyes closed.

Rogue smiled, "I know you do and I love you guys. So, here's the deal – no sugar coating: Irene's moving me to New York."

Ryder sat straight up, all relaxation forgotten, "New York City!?"

"No," She laughed at the phrase they often used from a commercial. "It's a town called 'Bayville'. It sounds alright, but I don't know. She says that she doesn't plan on coming back to Brandon...probably."

"Well, at least you won't have to change your school letters." Ryder tried see the positives.

Abygail sat up slowly, "Why Rach?"

"I don't know. Irene's friend," Rogue thought swiftly, "Misty showed up about a week ago, and everything just seemed to fall apart." _Wow, am I the master of understatement or what? _"Then Irene pulled me outta school, told me to pack everything up that we were moving. So I've been packing everything. And they've not allowed me out until tonight..."

They all started as they heard the branch snap. Each jerked in the direction they thought it had come from, searching the encroaching darkness. "What was that?" asked Aby, "Where'd it come from?"

Ryder stood up, walked away from the girls towards the trees surrounding them, "I've got a gun."

"No, you don't Ryder!" came the harsh whisper from Abygail who stood with Rogue holding hands tightly.

"Shush!" Turning back to the night, Ryder called, "Is anyone there?"

Out from the inky darkness waddled a small grey opossum, which upon seeing the teens scampered into a thicket.

"Well, you sure showed him, Ryder!" Aby walked up and clapped him on the shoulder. She returned to the blanket where Rogue waited. "It's just a opossum, must've fallen off his branch, but Ry's gonna shoot it with his make believe gun..." she explained to Rogue.

But Ryder continued to stare into the tree line surrounding the reservoir, squinting to separate shapes from the shadows. Around the lake, lamps brightened the walking trail every few yards, but the trees and landscaping beyond the embankments were not lit. He knew he'd heard _someone_ not a something. A frown marred his countenance. He was concerned that someone might be watching them, _but why? What's so interesting about us?_

He stepped towards the trees, peering into the blackness. He thought he could almost detect a figure watching them. Aby called to him, waving for him to return to their blanket. He waved back, but when he scanned the forest again; the shadow was gone. Ryder ran his thin fingers through his coarse ash hair. He _knew_ he'd heard someone. Shrugging to himself in his way, he felt he must be overreacting. After all, he told himself, Brandon is a safe town and the neighborhood was gated. He assumed it was just some neighborhood kids spying on them.

_Pfft. Kids._

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She watched the tall boy rejoin the girls, after what felt to be an eternity of staring straight at her. She released the breath she'd been holding. She had almost walked out of the dark to give them the shock of their lives, but the opossum beat her to it. _I'll have to be more careful. Sound travels on water, _she mentally noted. She observed the teens take their previous positions on the quilt. They resumed their conversation, but talked of superficial, teenage things. Their chatter remained light and jovial, intertwined with fits of giggles, chuckles, and guffaws of laughter.

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During a lull, Rogue asked, "What time is it?"

Ryder rolled to his right, "I don't know, nine, eight."

"And he's gonna grad-u-ate soon," teased Abygail. "He's gonna be smarts!" The two girls giggled at Ryder's expense.

"Yeah, see if I come to rescue yall next time from rabid opossums!" turning his back to both.

"Oh Ry, we don't mean..." Rogue reached for him, when he swiftly turned and began tickling Rogue, who shrieked with laughter, before he turned on Abygail.

"NO! Ryder!" She pleaded trying to get up, but he leapt over Rogue, caught Aby, and tickled her until she begged for mercy.

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"She's asleep you know?"

"Yeah, I figured since she was snoring."

Rogue swatted Ryder's arm. "That's not nice. She is not. Abs doesn't snore."

"Oh? You know? Please tell me how you would know this...and don't leave out any detail – no matter how unimportant, sexy, or dirty it may seem." Rogue could see his smile in the moonlight. "Also enlighten me, what were yall wearing...or not wearing? Please describe it to me in great prolonged drawn-out-disgusting detail."

"Jerk."

"You love me."

"I do."

"Perhaps _I_ should be lying in the middle?" Ryder turned his head, wagging his brows.

Rogue giggled softly. "You've always been in the middle."

"Oh now, you have _got_ to tell me about that dream. I had one just like it, with you and Aby... OW!" he rubbed his arm where she'd punched him. "Nice, Rogue, and just so you know that was so _not_ in my dream...well not _that_ one at least." He chuckled.

Ryder stretched out his right arm, and Rogue rested her head on his bicep. He looked at her intently, "Rachelle, are you leaving because of your condition? Is this about getting treatment?"

Rogue stared back into his cobalt eyes, "Yes and no. It's complicated." She sighed, "It's not by choice I can tell you that much."

"What if you stayed? Could you? Would they put you in a different foster home?"

"I don't think they'd let me" Rogue chose her words carefully, telling Ryder the truth, but meaning Mystique and Irene, not the state of Mississippi.

"I wish I could stay. I love it here. It was beginning to feel like home. Like I belonged..."

He smiled, "Well after five years, I should hope so." After a pause, he changed subjects, "Do you remember when we met in fifth grade?"

Rogue gave a sad smile, "Yeah, on the playground. Abs had just socked you – for some reason. What was it?"

"I asked her to marry me."

"Ha, that's right." Rogue snickered.

"She said 'Heck no!' and punched me and she's never stopped. She saw you off to yourself with a book – of all things! You don't bring a book to the playground, shame Rogue! You know, I'm actually surprised you didn't bring a book tonight. You always seem to have one on ya," Ryder mused almost to himself causing Rogue's smile to falter just a little.

"And well, you know Abs. She's never met a stranger. She was fascinated by your gloves. Still is..." taking her hand and holding it up between them, "you and your _fashion_ trend. Abygail told me that you needed us and we needed you. That our group was whole now..." Rogue turned her head away.

Watching her reaction, Ryder ended with, "So off she goes to recruit you into our little group and here we are years later. Older and ...are we wiser?" smirking at her.

"No, we aren't," Rogue again met his sapphire eyes with her own sparkling emerald, she smiled once more, "But we are older."

"Yeah, we are getting so old..." Ryder knew the game.

"Give my senior discount, sonny!"

"Yep, gotta get my walker. And my Viagra."

Rogue shook with silent laughter, but managed to get out, "You young whipper-snappers!"

"Painting the town with your crazy graffiti!" he chuckled.

"I'm gonna miss you guys."

"And we are gonna miss the fire outta you." Ryder pulled her closer, hugging her tight, hoping to stop time for his best friend. They fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts, full of hopes and wishes. Soon they too drifted into sweet dreams joining Abygail.

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She spied them touch, talk, drink, laugh, and fall asleep, curling up together. They'd spent hours rambling on about nonsense and drivel. Rogue had broken all the rules, and had almost been interrupted when her curfew was missed, but Irene's words echoed – begging for Rogue to have time with her friends. Irene had argued that Rogue deserved time to be a teenager before she was dragged off to participate in a war she didn't know existed.

She straightened, walked over to the teens, and looked down at the trio now at her feet. Ryder was splayed out with his hand touching Rogue's back. Rogue in the middle, still in Ryder's jacket had buried her face deep into the fleece, protected from the cool night air. Abygail faced the center, curled up with her hands tucked beneath her chin. She considered waking them all, dragging Rogue home – embarrassing her in front of her beloved best friends. But something inside her softened...for just a moment; perhaps it was Irene's influence. She stepped away, taking one last look, and shape-shifted into a crow to fly back to the house.

_Tonight Rogue can pretend she's normal because it's the last time anyone will believe she is. She's too important for me to lose. I'll give her tonight, earn her trust, then use her to destroy him! Our future is at stake. This is a game I will win!_

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	4. Telephone

**Telephone**

Still half asleep, Rogue absently wondered why the sun was blinding her. And her nose itched. Scratching her nose, she felt wet fabric and hair. She cracked a green eye, finding a midnight blue glove still on her hand. _Why am I wearing gloves? Why is it damp? Was I _that_ tired last night?_ And her nose still itched. She pushed the thick hair from her face, but the long chocolate tresses were not hers. Opening both eyes, she followed the locks from her hand to _Aby?_ She snapped straight up, immediately wishing she hadn't after a night on the hard, cold ground. She groaned, Aby yelped. That's when Rogue saw she was still holding a handful of Aby's hair.

"OW! Let me go!" Aby turned, smacking the unknown hair-pulling assailant. Pulling her legs under her, she sat up rubbing her eyes, "Why's it so bright?"

"Just five more minutes..." grumbled Ryder.

"Ryder! What are you...oh my gosh! It's morning...we're at the lake...oh my... Rachelle, what are you doing?" taking in Rogue lying on the ground, holding her face.

Rogue lay near the feet of her friends, on top of the dew dampened blanket, with her hand to her jaw. _Aby hits like a mean trucker! _Rogue moaned, "What? You punched me Abs!"

"I so did not...Oh wait, _you_ pulled my hair...Well, that is not how someone wants to wake up! It's not cool, Rogue. Not cool at all."

"Girls! Shut it! I'm sleeping here." Ryder turned over, swiftly snoring again.

"How does he do that...?" Aby muttered to herself as she crawled over to Rogue, "Rogue, I'm sorry, but you got what you deserved. How would like me to pull your hair?" Then Abygail grabbed some scarlet strands and yanked.

"ABY!" Rogue pushed Aby who grabbed Rogue's arm causing them to topple together. They rolled off the blanket onto the wet grass as each tried to shove the other away.

"Seriously? You pushed me!"

"You hit me!"

"You pulled my hair!"

"YALL!" Both girls turned towards the shout. Ryder was sitting up, disheveled blond hair littered with pieces of pine straw, eyes completely closed. "Shut up." Before his head hit the ground, he was snoring again.

"How does he do that?" Aby shrugged at Rogue's question.

"I'm sorry."

"Me too. But I gotta go. I am more than late. Mystiq..." Rogue caught herself, "Misty's gonna kill me!" She stood, brushing off pine straw, grass, and dirt. "I need to get ...uh, to the house." She couldn't bring herself to call that place 'home'. It had become a prison.

"Irene's friend? Why would she care if you were out all night?" Aby stood, picking a stubborn leaf from Rogue's hair, and then started on her own.

"Oh...hmmm," Rogue looked to her friend, "That's a great question. Can I get back to you when I think of a good lie?"

Aby frowned, "Why would you need to lie to me? We tell each other everything."

Still wearing Ryder's jacket, Rogue shoved her hands into the pockets. "Yeah I know, Abs, but I don't just know if I can tell you this. Heck, it's even a lot for me to absorb – literally."

"Ah...so suddenly you can't tell me your big bad secret? You don't trust me? Ryder – I understand – He's Ryder! But me? OH wait...I see you what you're saying." She shook her fluffy tutu-esque skirt free of damp grass and began finger-combing her chestnut locks, "So what you're saying is that you no longer want to be my best friend?" She looked to Rogue whose face drained of color.

Rogue shrugged, waving her hands about, searching for words to explain. "No. That's not what I'm saying. It's compli..."

"-Cated. I get it. You're moving. You think we won't be friends with you after you move. That there's no place for us in your new fancy life in New York." Aby stuck a slender finger in Rogue's pale face, almost touching the tip of her nose. Rogue jerked backwards. "You're dead wrong. I ain't letting you go that easy." The petite girl put up her fists, "You're gonna have to fight me for it."

Rogue's lower jaw dropped, her mouth open, "Wha..."

"Wait." The two turned to Ryder, now wide awake, "Let me get my camera first. I've been waiting for this moment for five years." He ran to his car.

"Huh?" Rogue stared after her friend.

"Did he just...?" Rogue nodded.

Ryder returned with his camera, sat down, turned it to video, and announced, "Proceed." Abygail, fists on hips, was dumbstruck. Rogue, however, was not.

"Jerk!" and jumped on top of him, followed closely by Abygail. Ryder grunted as the duo landed on him. But he was quickly howling with laughter, "Wait, this is just like that dream I was telling you about...but this is not what yall were wearing..." Then Aby's fist made contact with his jaw. "Ow! Abs!" pushing the small girl off of him, "What's with you hitting everyone today?"

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Irene sat in front of her Braille keyboard, rigid. She expelled a long breath, and then her fingers began flying over the keys. Mystique wandered into the room, sitting near her. Once finished, she asked, "What did you see? Was it Rogue?"

"No. Not this time. At least, not that I can discern." Irene faced Mystique, "Raven, where is Rogue? She did not return last night. I thought you went for her, but you came back without her. Did you..." She nervously wrung her hands.

"No, Irene. I left her there."

"Why? What's happened?"

"I...Nothing's happened. I decided to give her a gift of one last night with her _friends_. I want her to trust me and this seemed like a good opportunity to _develop _that trust. She is necessary to our cause. He wants her, but I'll never allow it. She belongs to us." She knelt on the floor in front of Irene, and reached for her hands, "She belongs to you and me. She is our future. We will create our future, and destroy his in one fell swoop."

Irene touched Mystique's shoulder, "I don't want him to have her either, but what if she doesn't trust us? What if she never does?"

"Oh, but she will. Even if I have to make her. Given the right incentives, she'll always choose us."

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Rogue and Abygail shook the blankets, folded them, and Ryder placed them back in his car. "Let me give you a ride home Rogue."

"Yeah, even Misty can't get mad at that. We're being responsible – bringing you home...just twelve hours late." Aby wryly smiled.

"It doesn't matter. I think? Misty said she would come for me, but I guess she changed her mind?" Rogue wondered what had _actually_ happened. If Mystique had said she was coming after her, Rogue believed she would, yet she had woken up with her friends. No blue people to explain. But she didn't feel relieved; she felt her whole abnormal world would come crashing down on her after she had slipped up with Abygail. _Lies...I need to learn to lie better...at least lie better to them. But what if I told them the truth?_

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"What is she doing?" Aby wondered aloud, "She's just standing there."

"Well, let me see," Ryder put index fingers to his temples, "Hmmm, she's thinking about me. She loves me, wants to kiss me, and have my kids." Gracing Aby with saucy smile, "How would _I_ know, Abs? I have not been suddenly granted the power of telepathy. _That's_ your department...you know everything, Princess Pint-size."

Crossing her arms to keep from punching Ryder for the second time today, Aby replied, "I wish. She said Irene's_ friend_ was coming for her, and it didn't sound like the friendly 'Hey, I'm a friend of your Mom and came to pick you up because I'm awesome person' kind of way. It sounded more like, 'Hey! I'm a _friend_ of your Mom, here's a lollipop, get into my van.' She sounded scared, Ry. I'm worried about her."

Throwing his arm around her shoulders, "If you weren't worrying, you wouldn't be happy. It's just the way you are. I think you were born 400 years old. You know how old people shrink? This could explain why you're so short!"

Abygail pinched the bridge of her upturned nose. "It's way too early and you're so not funny,"

Nudging him with her elbow, "Just go get her and throw her over your shoulder. Be a caveman. Catch woman. Make fire," joked Aby.

"Rogue, wake up. You can daydream at home!" Ryder yelled. To Aby, "I'm absolutely sure Rogue is not the kind of girl you throw over your shoulder. I think she would kill me."

Aby smiled at the thought, "Yes, yes she would."

"_I'm_ coming." Rogue called as she started towards them.

"Well, of course you are," teased Aby, "either by force or choice!"

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_I am going to miss them like crazy. I'll never find anyone like them in New York. _Rogue studied her friends standing by the car, waiting patiently for her. They were both well-practiced and extremely well-versed in waiting for Rogue to awaken from her daydreams. To them, Rogue was always lost in a book, woolgathering, or head in the clouds – the list goes on and on. She would start a sentence, never to finish because she would become lost in her own little world. Aby claimed this is why she did most of the talking. While Ryder claimed it was just Aby's excuse to monopolize conversations. However unbeknownst to Rogue, it was one of many things they adored about her.

"Rogue, wake up. You can daydream at home!" Ryder yelled, pulling her from the dismal thoughts.

"_I'm_ coming."

"Well, of course you are," teased Aby, "either by force or choice!"

Rogue stopped dead in her tracks. It sounded just like Mystique. She had said something along the same vein at their long _in theory _conversation. Mystique had claimed she would answer Rogue's questions, but she talked for hours after Rogue's harrowing experience – never answering one question. There were portions Rogue could not even recall, but some things had gotten through the fog inside her mind. Mystique had droned on endlessly about how the X-men were plotting her demise. It seemed to be Mystique's motto, "they will hunt you down, imprison you, use you for your power, and then they will discard you like a dirty rag when they're done." Mystique spoke like they were the boogeyman incarnate.

Mystique warned her, "You can come willingly or I will take you forcibly. This is all for your own _protection_, dear. I am doing this for you, don't you understand?"

_No, I most definitely do not understand. I don't understand why I have to leave here. I don't understand why I have to go to New York. I don't understand what's wrong with me. I don't understand why these people _want _me. Why can't I stay? I'm leaving everything I love...everyone I love. I'm leaving the place I belong... __for __nothing__! _

Rogue stomped her foot. She felt the salty tear slip from her eye. She wiped it away quickly before her friends could see. _I will not cry about this!_ But even as she thought it, another slipped free. She turned her back to her friends, swiped at the tear, inhaling deeply. She cleared her throat – a trick she had learned long ago, hands on hips. Rogue steeled herself, pushing those thoughts aside. She was not going to be a victim, and just allow this to _happen _to her. It was time for some changes, and she was just the one to make them.

_This is _my _life. I decide. _

Then someone grabbed her from behind.

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Ryder watched Rogue who appeared to be having an argument with herself, if the foot stomping was anything to go by. His heart went out to Rogue. He didn't want her to leave; he didn't want to lose his friend. _But some things in life aren't by choice._ She'd already told him this was not her decision. _Adults do that – force things upon kids._ _Sometimes you don't even get to make up your own mind._

He heard Abygail, beside him, sigh. She shifted, for what felt like the umpteenth time.

"Ryder, please just go get her already..." Aby pleaded. "I hate to say this, but I need a powder room."

"Yeah, sure." Ryder ambled over to where Rogue stood. He was just about to say something when he heard her soft whisper, "I decide."

_What? _He looked back to Abygail who waved for them to hurry. He swiftly grabbed Rogue by the waist and tossed her on his shoulder.

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Rogue grumbled all the way to the house. _Just after I said I wasn't going to be pushed around! _Even though Ryder and Abygail apologized, she was still annoyed that he had tossed her about like a fish and that Abygail had _actually_ requested it. _I'm so gonna get them!_

Ryder pulled into the driveway. But before he could put it into park, Abygail bounded from the car, and ran for the door. Rogue froze. _Uh oh! She'll see Mystique._ Rogue hurried to get out.

Irene opened the door, "Rogue, did you forget your key?"

"Hi, Ms. Adler. It's me Aby. I, uh...I need a powder room. Please?" She shifted uncomfortably.

Irene smiled pleasantly, "Of course, dear, you know the way." Aby rushed past Irene. "Where's Rachelle?"

"I'm here," called Rogue from the bottom step, glancing around anxiously, "We lost track of time and fell asleep. Sorry." _Where's Mystique? _Ryder met her at the front steps.

"Well, come on in. You too, Ryder." Irene waved them inside the house. "I hope you all had a good time?"

Rogue looked around nervously. _Is she hiding? Planning on jumping out at us – like some game?_

Ryder thought he could reach out and touch the tension in the air, but the fact remained that he too needed the powder room. "Uh, yeah it was fun. Um, Ms. Adler, I also need..."

"Oh, at the top of the stairs."

Abygail entered refreshed and chattering, "Ms. Adler, that is some nice smelling soap you got in there. Where did you get that? Rogue, did you pick it out? Cause that is nice. I love that stuff from Bath and Body Works, but I don't love those girls accosting me at the doors. I mean, really _that's _your job? I'm so hungry. What about you Rogu..." the name dying on her lips as she saw the faces staring back at her.

Irene broke the silence, "So Abygail, I hear you had fun?"

"Yes, Ms. Adler, I'm sorry we lost complete track of time..."

Irene waved off the apology, "It's alright, dear, Rachelle explained. It's fine, but next time I would prefer a phone call so I don't stay up worried."

"Next time?" Rogue's eyebrows shot up.

"Next time!" squealed Aby.

"Jinx. Yall owe me a coke." Ryder commented, coming down the stairs.

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Rogue waved from the doorway as Ryder and Abygail drove off for some breakfast. She closed the door and leaned on it. _It's now or never. _Irene stood silent in the living room, holding her cane. Rogue walked from the foyer into the living room, "Where's Mystique?"

"She had some business to attend. Why?"

"Just curious."

"Rogue, I..."

Rogue interrupted before Irene could continue, "Irene, I'm exhausted and I need a shower. I'm going to take a nap."

"Alright, but..."

Rogue started upstairs to her room, then stopped, "Irene, I told Ryder I'd meet up with them later. Is that ok or am I still on lockdown?"

"I'm sure it will be fine, but..."

Rogue broke in again, "Good." She continued up the stairs, "And we need to talk later."

Irene stood still, but her mind raced. Irene was sure of she'd heard. What she wasn't sure of was Rogue herself. Not knowing scared Irene. Rogue was, what Irene considered to be, an unpredictable factor. She never knew how Rogue would react, what she would say, what she would do, or how that could affect possible outcomes. _I wish Raven was here._

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"Her name is Destiny."

Logan and Ororo shared a look.

Charles continued, "That's the name she is called in certain circles. I knew her as Irene Adler. She is a precognitive mutant."

"Speak English, Chuck," Logan wearily ran fingers through jet-black hair. Ororo sighed deeply, placing a hand on Logan's shoulder.

"She can see probabilities of the future. It is possible what she 'sees' may or may not occur. Irene told me that the future was ever evolving, and our choices can influence outcomes. However, she also said some things cannot be changed – they are fated to happen."

"She sounds like a blooming ray of sunshine," snorted Logan.

Ororo shot Logan a look, then asked, "What does this have to do with the girl, Charles?"

"I'm not sure. But if she's involved with Mystique, it cannot be good."

"I'd bet the farm on it, Chuck."

···················

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Rogue locked the door to her room – something she did all the time since Mystique's arrival. She grabbed her messenger bag, shoving clothes, and necessities inside. She didn't need much, and she was sure that her time was short. Rogue quickly changed clothes. Mystique could return at any moment. She pulled the third dresser drawer out, tossing the hidden box into her bag, and put the drawer back.

Rogue thought for a moment then went to the air vent in the floor under her window. Removing the cover, she stuck her arm into the tube, and pulled out a small tin. She checked the contents, making sure everything was there. She went to her nightstand, producing a roll of duct tape. After pulling off a length; she tossed the roll into her bag.

She wrapped the small tin with the tape, securing and cloaking all at once. She wrapped the tin inside a shirt, sticking both into the bag. She stuffed her laptop inside also, checked the door, turned her clock radio on a low volume, and opened her window. Sitting on her windowsill, Rogue slung the strap of her bag over her head, and thought twice about this decision.

Then she jumped.

She ran at full speed until she hit the corner. She slowed to a jog, hoping the neighbors would not think her strange jogging the neighborhood with her bag. She made the block, and turned on the next street where Ryder and Abygail waited. "What took yall so long?" smiling at her partners in crime. She hopped into the backseat, and Ryder drove out of the subdivision.

Abygail faced Rogue, "Are you sure about this?"

"They aren't leaving me much choice," seeing Aby's concern, Rogue added, "I know what I'm doing."

"You could stay at one of our houses, ya know?" Ryder eyed her in the rearview mirror.

Rogue smiled, "And that's my evil plan...when I come back, but for now I gotta get out of Dodge. Once they're looking for me out of state, I can come back. Maybe stay with you guys until I decide what to do from there."

Aby made a sour face. "Ok, so yeah, I don't have it all figured out! But guys, I'm not going to New York! I'll hop a train, see some sights, and hop back into town in a month or so...no big."

Aby turned back to face the road, sliding her hand across the seat to take Ryder's hand in her own. They shared a look. Both were worried about their best friend and her future. They had discussed as much waiting for Rogue to arrive.

"_What did she say again?"_

"_She hugged me goodbye and whispered to wait on the next street. I don't know why Aby, but it's Rogue. So I'll wait."_

"_I wonder what she's planning."_

"_I think she's gonna run." Aby shot him a dirty look. "What? It's not like it'll be the first time. You know she use to run away all the time when she first got here. Then she stopped...never said why."_

"_I'm worried."_

"_Me too." Ryder rubbed her shoulder for comfort._

"So to the train station?" Ryder asked.

"No, to the industrial park. I can get on a train there easily, plus there'll be lots to pick from."

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Irene browsed the titles on her bookcase with her fingertips. She made her choice, pulling the book from the shelf. Suddenly Irene went stiff; the book falling to the floor. Irene released a long breath, returning to normal. She walked to her desk, and picked up the phone. Pausing, Irene wavered. Then she dialed the number.

"Yes?"

"I thought there would be more time."

"What's happened?"

"She's running."

"Do you know where?"

"I do now. She's going for a train."

"Then I've got a train to catch," he said.

_Click._

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	5. Blind Woman's Bluff

**Blind Woman's Bluff**

Ryder and Abygail watched Rogue anxiously as she hurried through the tall yellow grass and across the train yard until she found an open car. She gave a quick wave to her friends and climbed aboard. Her two best friends stood quietly as they watched an engine attach to the cargo line and pull from the waiting tracks. Rogue had hastily hugged her friends goodbye with a short, vague explanation.

Aby put her hand on her chest, "My heart is pounding. I hope she's ok." She got in the car and looked down at the two small boxes in her hand.

Ryder got in his car, placing the laptop Rogue given him on the seat next to him. He solemnly started his car, pulling onto the road, "I just hope she knows what she's doing."

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Rogue found a hiding spot behind crates of pulp products. Since the boxcar's door remained opened, the air would keep the car a comfortable temperature. She'd only used a freight train once before when she'd run from Irene. It had been easier then because they lived in Jackson, next to a train yard. Rogue made it all the way to Arizona before the cops had caught up to her.

Soon, she felt the car jerk and shutter as it was connected with its engine, and her escape was underway. If she had calculated correctly, the train would stop at the Jackson rail yard to add more freight cars, and allow her an opportunity to slip away to the Amtrak station nearby. She'd absconded with all the money she'd saved, and some of Irene's. Now she only needed to decide how far she would run, and how long could she stay out of Mystique's grasp.

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Irene paced the small living room until she was sure she had worn a path through the rug. Raven had not yet returned, which was good because Irene was not thrilled about telling she'd lost Rogue. _This was _not_ our plan!_ She had not expected Rogue to run. She'd been on her best behavior since they moved to Brandon almost five years ago. _But that's because of Raven..._ She shook her head of such thoughts. She needed to see the future. But no visions were forthcoming. She had surpassed 'worried' long ago. Irene did not like not knowing. Frustrated, Irene headed for Rogue's garden.

She knew that he would find Rogue – he'd move heaven and earth if necessary. _He promised! _She took a deep breath. _Oh, Rogue, what are you doing? _Irene was aware that Rogue often did the unexpected, but the vision of Rogue on the train had shaken her. Now, Irene was terrified of what Raven would do to her girl..._She's only a child._ This was not the first time Rogue had run away, but she had wholeheartedly believed after what Raven had done that she'd never run again. And until today, she hadn't.

She called him again, "Destiny?"

"It's me. Mystique is due soon. Have you found her?"

"Not yet, but I have my best man searching for her. He _will _find her and bring her back to us."

"He...he won't hurt her, will he?"

"No. He will not harm her. He's being extremely well paid."

"Thank you."

_Click._

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Logan was programming a danger room training exercise when he received the summons over the intercom. "Logan, if you have a moment, I need to see you."

"Sure thing, Chuck." He saved the program, and headed for the Professor's study.

When Logan entered, Charles was facing the window, watching the students in a training session with Storm. Professor Xavier looked up relieved, "Logan, good...I need a favor."

"A favor?"

Charles smiled, "Yes, of the personal variety. I need you to return to Brandon, Mississippi..."

Logan interrupted, "Did the girl come around? I'm picking her up?"

"No, no. I need you to find some records."

"Uh, research – isn't Ororo better qualified for this?"

"In this case, no. You have a way of cutting through the red tape."

Charles went on to explain the 'who', 'what', 'when', and 'where' of his request. Professor Xavier seemed to be very cryptic concerning this favor. Logan wondered what the Professor was actually after. Logan was more advantageous for destruction, not retrieval. He could handle retrieving, but not without causing some minor damage in transit. While Charles seemed sure that Logan was perfect for the task, Logan remained unconvinced.

Before he left, Logan questioned sending himself, "Chuck, I ain't one to pry, but..."

Charles gave a small smile, "Well, that statement would suggest otherwise, but perhaps you deserve to know more. Please sit...this might take a while."

Later as Logan prepared the Blackbird jet for departure, he thought back to what Charles had shared with him. He had shared a great deal, but it wasn't everything. Logan was able to figure out some on his own, but _this_ was more than he'd previously thought. He had known there was more behind the recent recruitment mission. He had asked Xavier when they originally left for Mississippi. Now he was heading south to retrieve those answers for both of them – the professor and the rogue.

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Rogue arrived in Jackson, hot and tired, wishing she'd thought about food before leaving. However, there had been no time once her plan was set in motion. She hoped she could find something at the Amtrak station. She poked her head out of the open boxcar. No one was around to notice the slim girl 'freight-hopping' so she leapt out, and ran through the yard.

As she walked down the dirty street towards the train station, Rogue pulled her hood onto her head. She hoped she would not stand out amongst the other travelers. Even with the cooler temperatures, it was still warm and she felt someone would notice the girl covered from head to toe. She already had the feeling someone was watching, but wrote it off as paranoia. She crossed the intersection and headed inside the station for her ticket, and she hoped some food. The food was easier to obtain – finding the vending machines right inside the door. Getting a ticket, however, was proving difficult. She stood back, staring, baffled by the schedule. The directions were easy, "Read Up" and "Read Down", but Rogue was at a complete lost in translating the chart of departures. She finally decided to seek out an employee.

Rogue found a lovely older lady who explained her limited choices. She could head west towards Los Angeles, south to New Orleans, or north for Chicago. New Orleans was the cheapest ticket at twenty-four dollars, but it wasn't far enough away for Rogue. _Besides, been there, done that._ If she took the New Orleans train, she could switch trains and head to Los Angeles; but it was over four hundred dollars. Also, she couldn't even get a train until after five that night.

Rogue sighed, running her fingers through her hair causing the hood to drop. She did not have enough money for the full trip. She planned on getting extra money, but she first needed to get out of state. She surveyed the people in the waiting area. They didn't look like they could afford the vending machine, much less the price of her train ticket.

"Can I help you with something, dawling?"

Rogue almost laughed at the man's deep concocted southern twang. He sounded like some sad actor attempting a 'Mississippi/southern' accent. _If he's toothless hillbilly... _She turned to face him, finding her image mirrored in his sunglasses. Even though he was definitely not a hillbilly, she did not have the time to waste on him.

"I think not," she huffed.

He smiled, exposing a dimple, "Aw, don't be that way. Are you heading _my_ way?"

Rogue crossed her arms; _At least he has teeth, but can't take a hint... _"And where would that be?"

"Wherever you're going...I'd follow that cute tush anywhere."

"Ugh!" Rogue pushed him aside, leaving the station, giving one last disgusted look as she stormed out.

He smiled widely, eyes following her through the door. He took out his cell, and pressed the redial button. When a voice answered, he said, "I found her."

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Rogue noticed the man in the mirrored sunglasses follow her from the building. She hoped he was just watching her leave until she crossed back over the intersection. When she ducked behind a dumpster, she found he was actually stalking her. She figured he was just out for either some easy money or an easy woman. She was neither. She ran behind some rundown houses in the hopes of losing him. She'd initially planned on returning to the ticket office and heading to New Orleans. While it wasn't her first choice, she knew places to make extra money so she could continue westward.

With the strange man following her, she swiftly changed her plans. First being she had to get rid of the idiot, and fortunately he was already lagging behind. _This will be easier than I thought!_

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He had spotted her relatively quickly. He'd watched her walk the block and enter the station. He'd been waiting a while and she was the only woman at the station even worth noticing. That kind of beauty stands out everywhere. He had been ordered to call once she was located and had been just about to call when she began absently nibbling on her glove's fingertip. And when she bit her lower lip, he could not help stare. No one else in the station paid any attention to her, which was fine with him.

Seeing her hair confirmed her identity, but he wanted to hear her voice. Her soft southern accent was spine tingling. She was spunky, and he liked that. He had been telling the truth when he said he'd follow her anywhere. He was willing, just not able. Under normal circumstances, he would chase and charm her, but this was a job.

He followed her out of the station, watched her cross the street, and head up the hill. Thinking he might have spooked her out of buying a ticket, he slowed his pace behind her. He almost lost her as she darted between the dilapidated homes. _She's good...but I'm better. This will be easier than I thought!_ He was enjoying this chase – maybe a bit too much. He assumed she would eventually circle back to the station, but she was proving to be impetuous. She headed in the opposite direction. He'd zig, and she'd zag.

It was a delightful game...until he lost her.

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When he arrived at the train yard, he figured he had been beat. He'd been surprised by how careful she was, uncommonly so for someone her age. Either she was adapting because of him or she had no idea what she was doing. He had to wonder if she were playing it all by ear. He felt he was chasing a cottontail – she continued to erratically bob and weave until he was completely turned around.

The train yard ended up being a guess he hoped would pay off. He counted thirty-four tracks. She would have plenty of choices. _This is gonna take forever... _He climbed on top of a car for a better view. Lucky for him, she chose that moment to stick her head around a car before sneaking aboard. He noticed the train officials preparing for the engine hook-up and departure. Knowing he'd never make to the boxcar in time, he thought fast and headed for the parking lot.

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Mystique entered as her Principal Darkhölme disguise, but changed immediately into her normal appearance. She called for Irene, but received no answer. Searching, she found Irene in the garden, on the phone.

"Thank you."

Mystique touched her shoulder, causing Irene to jump. "Who is that?"

"The police," Irene lied.

"What's wrong, Irene?"

"It's Rogue. She's gone."

"And you called the police!" Mystique was furious. The police would only screw things up for everyone. "Why didn't you call me? I would've handled it. I would've handled _her!_"

Irene gasped..._that's why I didn't call you! _ "I panicked Raven. I wasn't thinking clearly. I...I didn't know what to do... I am so scared," Irene replied in half-lies.

"Ok, it's fine," Mystique comforted. "I can _still_ fix this."

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**Thank you to Crossxavier, Roguelover321, and Queenith2. You keep me inspired. I hope you continue to be surprised and intrigued.**


	6. See Saw

**See Saw**

Running to the parking lot, his first thought was to take the first car he saw, but experience dictated one in good condition with plenty of gas. So he wisely avoided the electric car at the front of the lot. _Who drives that piece of crap?_ If he would be chasing that train for any length of time, he wanted comfort. His six foot frame wouldn't squeeze into the compacts anyway. He found a nice midsized vehicle, and quickly broke in. He found enough gas to follow for a good long time. "Just hope it don't take that long..." he mumbled.

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He rotated his head, popping several stiffening neck muscles. He'd been following the train for hours. The train did not always maintain a parallel to the main roads, so he improvised. He took several back roads and various dirt roads all to keep the train in sight. It only stopped once at a small town to drop off a couple freight cars, but was swiftly underway. He half expected the girl to jump out during the shipment unloading, but apparently she was intent on the train's final destination. And he had no idea where that was.

He briefly considered that he underestimated her, but his ego wouldn't allow it. Given, she may have eluded him in Jackson, but he was determined it wouldn't happen again. Not that he would admit it anyway.

He rubbed his eyes, stifling a yawn. He'd been on the girl's trail since early that morning. 'Morning' was earlier than he liked to start his days, and he _never_ liked starting without a hot chicory coffee. He checked the fuel gauge. He would need gas soon. Suddenly the train curved right, but the road continued straight before eventually heading right as well. His heart began to pound, thinking he would lose her, but the train stayed in his sight. His heart slowed, but soon accelerated again. The reason: they were going over the Mississippi River.

_Well, maybe I can get some decent coffee now..._

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Mystique slammed against the door, with a shout, and finally it gave way. She stood in the doorway, fuming. Rogue's radio murmured in the background. _Clever. That's probably what fooled Irene for so long_. The volume was so low it almost sounded like voices in the background. Ignoring it, Mystique hurriedly began searching for some indication of where Rogue may have gone. _I don't have time for this. _She was already wasting an enormous amount of time on Rogue. Irene convinced Mystique to wait until Rogue was emotionally ready to leave. She'd made a good argument at the time about winning Rogue's trust, but clearly _that_ hadn't worked. Maybe her affection for Irene was beginning to interfere with her plans...

She came to take Rogue to New York; waiting was not included in that plan. It also did not include the X-men or Xavier's interference. None of this had gone according to plan. And if _he_ got wind of this, she would surely be done. He had his own plans, which often hindered hers. And this was the first time she was ahead of the curve and now Rogue was ruining it. She wanted to get back to Bayville, back to her so-called job, and her real job. Each second she was wasting on this one girl was more time away from her own game plan – from her success. Her blood began to boil. _Nothing's going according to plan! _

_Why didn't Irene see this coming?!_ She'd seen almost everything else they'd needed, yet Irene was caught off guard. Every time Rogue ran Irene knew it was coming. _Yet this time she's caught unaware... _It seemed odd to Mystique. She wondered what was going on, but there just wasn't time to dwell on it. She had to find that girl, drag her back, and put her on a plane. Rogue only complicated matters, delaying the inevitable.

Unfortunately Rouge was vital. She was a special girl, her power considerable, and currently had no idea exactly how much power she actually held within her hands. Mystique wanted to scream, rage filling her. _Stupid, stupid girl_ – _she's ruining everything!_ Mystique pressed fingers to her temples, she needed to focus.

Mystique began to tear the room apart out of sheer frustration. In the past, there was always some clue left behind carelessly, but as Rogue grew older, she became better at hiding things. As time went by, Rogue became harder to find. Rogue was getting smarter. _She always leaves something. _Mystique peered under the bed, between the mattress and box springs. She ransacked drawers, dug through the top and bottom of Rogue's closet. She went through the clothing in the closet. She checked the desk, looked at every bit of paper, and under everything, furniture, and a pile of clothing. Looking in Rogue's school bag and each bag on her shelves, Mystique still turned up absolutely nothing. _She might actually be hard to find..._

She went through the bathroom, its cabinets, and even the linen closet. Mystique looked behind every book on the bookcase, even inside the books, shaking them out. She checked behind the bookcase, the dressers, and Rogue's desk. She looked through the girl's homework, her school books, and she couldn't find anything. She looked for a diary, a laptop, anything to aid her in the search, but Mystique uncovered nothing. _Nothing...not one thing to show where she went, what she's thinking. _Clearly, Rogue was apt at covering her tracks. _No! It can't be! There's nothing!_ Nothing...nothing at all...

"NOTHING!"

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A rage filled cry echoed throughout the house, swiftly followed by a thud.

Irene was on the verge of panic. Raven finally broke into Rogue's room. She actually found herself hoping any evidence was carefully hidden, or impossible to find. She couldn't have Raven going after Rogue when _he_ was handling the situation. They agreed to keep everything from Raven, but _if they crossed paths..._

If that happened, then Raven would discover her secrets and her betrayal would not go over well. She could hear Raven ripping Rogue's room apart. She clutched her cane. She prayed Rogue had been careful and no clue could be found.

If she were not blind, Irene would have hidden any and everything to protect Rogue. After all, there were things she could _see _and things she could not. Sighing, she realized that she _should_ have seen this coming, and not in a vision. She should have known Rogue would run. Rogue was not easily pushed. She did not like doing anything against her will, and yet she'd been so accepting. She seemed to easily accept the idea of moving to New York, leaving school and her friends. That was not like Rogue...at all. Irene thought back on a couple of confrontations between herself and Rogue, half smiling. _She's definitely her own person. _

Furrowing her brows, she considered Rogue's friends. When she and Raven informed Rogue that she would not see her friends before they left for New York, Rogue did not even protest. Not one word. However, when she got the chance to see them, Rogue jumped at it. Did they convince her to run? They seemed like good kids, but Irene knew they adored Rogue. They had accepted Rogue despite her strange 'skin condition' and would readily touch her without concern. They seemed to want the best for Rogue, but so did Irene. And Irene knew this 'move' wasn't for the best. No matter how many times Raven repeated it.

After Rogue's last escape and its repercussions, it's no wonder Rogue was so well-behaved. Irene shivered at the thought. She could only imagine what Raven had done. From that point forward, Rogue fell in line just like a good little soldier. A piece of her was missing, dead. Only after Rouge spent time with her friends did Irene see her Rogue come back to life. Ryder and Abygail somehow managed to coax Rogue out. For that very reason, Irene was fond of the two. They accomplished what she could not.

Afterward, Irene vowed never to see it happen to Rogue again. It broke her heart. She ran to him, explaining everything, and surprisingly he agreed with her – Mystique should be distanced from Rogue. Then he created a way.

Disastrously, Rogue's mutant abilities emerged and threw all their schemes into disarray. Irene sighed. She _had_ to get in touch with him before Raven figured out where Rogue was. She needed to tell him Raven was going after her. She just needed Raven out of the house, but she also needed to slow her down.

Suddenly, a fury-filled cry filled the house, "NOTHING!"

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Fuming, Mystique came downstairs, "Doesn't that girl have a laptop?"

Irene swallowed hard, "Um, yes maybe she left it somewhere?" She offered apprehensively.

Mystique smirked, "Or else she took it with her. I'll find it. There's nothing up there of any use. Other than a small pile of clothes, she's ridiculously neat. There's nothing up there at all! Not even a speck of trash! I never knew the girl was so neat..." she trailed off, thinking to herself.

"Well, Raven, a lot changed after..."

Mystique interrupted, "I KNOW IRENE!" Irene jumped at her bark. Mystique _knew_ all about it, and was sick and tired of Irene bringing it up every five minutes. _Not like it even affected the girl..._

"Well, she did. It changed her," Irene was becoming more upset by the second. But she had to slow Mystique down, giving him time to find Rogue safe and sound.

"I think not!" Mystique laughed cruelly. "And if it did, more for the better, I'd say! I did what was best for her!"

"NO!" Irene stood, pointing directly at Mystique, "You did what you wanted! You did it to be cruel, to be spiteful! And now she's running from us! You hurt her! You hurt my baby! And what you've done is coming back to haunt us both! This is because of you!"

"I did this for us! Irene, it's for our future! She's our only hope!"

"NO! It's for your future!" Irene was shaking with fury, but she wasn't backing down this time.

Mystique took a different approach, "You've seen it for yourself Irene. There are things we have to do whether we like them or not! Things we do to build a position for ourselves so we aren't slaves to another man's ideology!"

"YOU wanted this! You've brought this down on us. I never cared..."

"Please!" Mystique scoffed at her, "You do care and don't deny it for one second! You wanted this from the beginning! We decided years ago, and we _decided _together. You just want to _pretend_ you're innocent from blame. You want to act like you don't know what I've done for you, for us! 'Ignorance is bliss.' Well, you've been ignorant. Pretending you don't know and you don't condone it. Face the truth, _love. _You just don't have the balls to see it through!"

Irene's mouth hung open. Even as much as she hated to admit it, Raven was right. Irene knew she didn't have what it took to make the hard choices. She never wanted to know what Raven did with Rogue. She pretended to be unaware. Irene chose bliss over knowledge. Ignorance over the truth. She _knew_ however, saw it herself, and was horrified. She ran to him. She told him everything, and he even forgave her.

She only wanted to stay here forever with Rogue, but it was falling apart. Ever since Rogue's mutation surfaced, Irene couldn't hide any longer. Her secret would soon be known. They both caused this – her and Mystique. She played a part. She did things as well, vile things she wasn't proud of – secrets hidden from Rogue, awful ways she'd convinced Rogue of her condition, lies to keep Rogue with her. She played her part.

Tears fell down her cheeks. She knew she'd lost. She was going to lose everything, everyone that mattered; and she could not continue to blame Raven. Raven did the things Irene couldn't do, when Irene had drawn her 'bliss' line. And now they would pay the price, and the price was Rogue.

Seeing her tears, Mystique mistook them as resulting from their fight. She placed her hands on Irene's shoulders, "I don't want to hurt you Irene. I never do, but you've known all along what would have to be done. This was decided. We agreed. _You_ agreed. I don't understand. Why is now any different?"

Irene wiped her cheeks, and sniffled, "You're right, Raven. You are. It's both of us. I'm sorry. I just…I'm just upset about Rogue, losing her. It's my fault and there are no visions to guide us."

Lying would always be better than the truth to Raven especially when it came to Rogue. If Irene thought she could have handled Rogue's new mutant powers alone, she never would have called Raven. But it was too late, and what was set in place could not be stopped. Until she hoped, he fixed it.

Mystique hugged Irene to her, "Don't worry, dear, I am going to find her and bring her back." She pulled back, looking Irene straight on, "Besides, the police have no idea what they're up against and Rogue has no clue what she's capable of..."

"If we'd told her..."

"That was never the plan." Mystique interjected.

"We'll never know now, what might have been." Irene finished.

"Irene, I _will_ find her. I'm going to see her little friends. I'm sure she told them something." After spying on them all night, she knew Rogue shared too much information, and would not be able to keep her flight secret. "She probably left the laptop with them, and I'm sure it has information on it."

Irene sighed, _because all our plans are going _so _well..._ "Raven, you don't know these kids. You should take me. If they know something, maybe they would tell me. They don't know you."

"They're kids, Irene. I work with them every day. How much trouble can these two be?" _I listened to their childish chatter all night. They're stupid kids, easily outsmarted._

It was simple. She would go see the kids, find out what exactly they knew, and if necessary extract said information from them. She grinned wickedly. This was something she enjoyed, very much her wheelhouse. She shifted into her Darkhölme persona and headed to her rented car, cursing the fact she even had to rent one. _It's Rogue fault... _All because Irene convinced her to stay for Rogue. She'd already been in this backwater too blooming long. _Rogue, when I get my hands on you..._ and she'd make it up to Irene later.

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Mystique wished Irene had warned her just how far it was to Ryder's house. On the outskirts of Brandon, their house sat in the middle of hundreds of acres of property surrounded by white fence. She drove up to the farm's sign, "Horse farmers" she snorted. They even had a security callbox. She pushed the button, quickly explaining who she 'was', and was buzzed through.

The voice had told her to go straight to the stables. She drove past the house, quickly shape shifting to a police detective façade, and parked outside the stable. A couple was standing there, waiting to greet her. They introduced themselves as Caleb and Elizabeth Hastings, Ryder's parents. Walking into the stable, they found Ryder. Muttering something about 'the sticks', Mystique curled her lip at the stable, refusing the bale of hay they offered as a seat.

She introduced herself, "I'm Detective Carla Rossi. I'm looking for Rachelle Tremblay. She goes by 'Rogue'. Her foster mother, Ms. Irene Adler reported her missing this afternoon."

Ryder and his parents only stared, patiently waiting. Mystique sighed. She looked at the boy, "Have you seen her?"

"No." Ryder answered.

"When did you last see her?"

"When I dropped her off," Ryder knew he was bending the truth, but he was determined to protect Rogue.

"Don't be rude son." Caleb reminded his son.

"Well, I did drop her off this morning at Ms. Alder's, and she was there." Ryder shrugged, his typical gesture.

Mystique continued, "Do you know where she might be? Is she here or maybe a friend's?" _This was absolutely frustrating...if the parents would leave; I'd tear the boy apart!_

"Nope, I don't know. She didn't tell me she was going anywhere, and she's not here," answering honestly.

"Did she _leave_ anything with you? A note? Her laptop, maybe?"

Ryder arched an eyebrow, "No."

Mystique saw that she was getting anything out of the boy, and apparently the parents were not going to leave the two alone. Ryder's parents walked her to the car.

Seizing an opportunity, Mystique threatened, "This girl is trouble, folks. We need to find her immediately. If your boy is hiding anything, he could be considered an accessory. Might be some heavy jail time. You might wanna tell him to cooperate or else..."

"Really?" answered Elizabeth Hastings, "Just what has Rachelle done? Have you officially charged Rachelle with anything? Because if not, our _boy_ cannot be charged as an accessory, much less considered one."

Elizabeth smiled sweetly, "Detective, I'm a lawyer, even if I live in the sticks."

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Abygail reached the top of the stairs just as her younger brother jumped out at her, screaming, "Gotcha!"

Aby countered, "Z! Leave me alone. I'm not even playing the game!"

Zephyr whined, "You never play! I thought you were Bree anyway!"

"Mom, can't you do something about him?" Aby called to her mother.

"I don't want to stifle his creativity." Her voice rang from somewhere in the large house.

_Great...no chance of that. _"Mom, feel free to stifle!" She hollered back.

At that moment, Breeze zoomed past Zephyr, giggling. He took off running down the long hall behind his little sister. "Bree, I called a time out!"

Abygail just shook her head, wishing she was an only child.

The doorbell rang. "Can someone get that?" her mother called.

Another voice rose above the din, "I got it!" Abygail recognized her older sister's voice.

"Someone's here for you, Sefarina, Astraeus." Her sister shouted. Aby rolled her eyes. Her parents insisted they be called by their chosen names. Aby found it ridiculous, and used parental titles instead.

"Thank you Tempest!" Her mother hollered back sweetly.

"You too Gail!" Tempest yelled.

Abygail turned around, heading back downstairs, wondering why no one spoke in normal tones in their house.

Mystique tried to appear cool as the yelling died down, but her head was already throbbing; and their racket was not helping. Aby's parents entered the living room immediately going to hug Mystique.

"Welcome to our home. I'm Sefarina."

"I'm Astraeus." Aby's father said as he hugged Mystique, still in her detective shape.

Aby came in and flopped on the couch, "Someone yelled?"

"I assume this law enforcement official wanted to see us." Sefarina looked expectantly to Mystique.

Stunned, Mystique stumbled introducing herself, "I'm Off...Detective Carla Rossi. I'm looking for Rogue."

"Uh huh," Aby looked utterly bored, examining her nails.

Mystique looked to the odd parents for help. They just smiled back, like two proud peacocks. She was at a complete loss. She'd never met Rogue's friends until today, and she was finding them to be quite strange. In fact, Mystique thought them more than strange. They were downright weird. The thought occurred to her that she was wasting time with them.

Mystique continued, "Her foster mother, Irene Adler, reported her missing. We thought you might know where she is or some idea where she'd go."

"Okay," Aby began to file a nail.

"Are you planning on answering my questions?" Mystique glared at the girl.

"Sure, but technically, that's the first one you've asked." She was suddenly very interested in the hem of her fluffy skirt.

_This girl is annoying!_ "Look, have you seen Rogue?"

Aby sat up, narrowing her eyes, staring the woman down, "No."

Exasperated Mystique asked, "Do you know where she might be?"

"No." Aby continued to stare.

"Someone she would stay with? Somewhere she would go? Someone she would call?"

"No times three."

Unable to take anymore, Mystique offered the parents her opinion, "Your daughter has awful manners and is terribly outspoken."

Sefarina smiled widely, "Yes, we encourage that."

Mystique thought her eyes would pop from her skull, "Are you serious?" Mystique was flabbergasted. _These people are crazy! _

Astraeus answered, "Of course, we wouldn't want Gail to be anyone but herself. We don't want to smother their personalities."

Mystique wanted to slap them all, scowling at Aby, "Fine then, do you know where she is or not?"

"Not."

"Did she _leave_ anything with you? A note? Her laptop? An idea of where she was going?"

Aby stood, "I'm not telling you anything. I don't like you." Aby then left the room.

Mystique gasped, absolutely shocked. _Insolent girl! _She turned on the parents, "Really? You _let _her talk that way to the police."

Sefarina chuckled, "Of course we _let _her. We allow our children to be free, without restrictions. We don't want them tied down to society's standard. We find the honesty refreshing."

Astraeus added, with a weary smile, "But we are tired of meeting with her teachers."

Visiting Rogue's friends did not produce any leads. _How can Rogue be friends with these people? _Mystique moved to plan B.

Abygail watched from her bedroom window as the detective left, her cell to her ear.

"Hey."

"She just left. Thanks for the warning Ry. You're right, she was weird. Too bad we can't give Rogue a heads up. Wonder who she really is?"

"My guess? She's Misty, the one Rogue told us about. Ms. Adler's _friend._"

"Humph, she can't be a friend to Ms. Adler. Ms. Adler is nice, and that woman was not very nice."

Ryder chuckled, "And I'm sure you told her so."

Aby smiled slyly, "Yes, yes I did."

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Irene was still shaking as she dialed the number. She struggled to hold back fresh tears.

He answered, "What's wrong?" _He knows me too well..._

"Mystique's gone after Rogue. I tried to stall her, but it turned into a fight."

"I see." Irene heard him sigh deeply before continuing, "I will handle this, Destiny. Do not worry. I will not allow Mystique to hurt her again. I will get her back safely, I promise."

"I know you will."

"I will call when we have her."

"Thank you."

"She means everything."

"I know."

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His phone rang at the most inopportune time.

"Uh, yeah Chuck, this isn't the best time," Logan answered, holding a finger up to the clerk he'd been talking with.

"I apologize, but I need one more thing since you're already in the area."

"What would that be?"

"Sir, it's time for us to close," stated the clerk.

"Chuck, hold on a sec." Turning to the lady, Logan replied, "I just need one minute darling."

She smiled shyly, "I guess I can make an exception."

"Alright, what is it you need? I'm trying to cut through some red tape right now and they're about to close."

"Sir, you can't use that phone in here," the security guard tapped Logan on the shoulder.

"Holy...Hold on Chuck." Grumbling, Logan left the building, "This had better be important."

"I feel that it is Logan. How are things going there?"

"It's proving pretty tough to get any info. No one wants to share it. They just don't give this information to anyone. They want a guardian, but I was making headway. I was talking with this girl," Logan glanced back at the building, just as the guards were locking the front doors. "Ah crap. They're locking up. I ain't getting nothing today."

Charles cleared his throat, "Perhaps a different tactic is required?"

"You want me to cut some serious red tape, huh?"

"Yes, time is truly of the essence."

"Yeah, I get it. You want originals?"

"No, that's not necessary."

"Alright, now why don't you tell me what's so all fire important that you called?"

Professor Xavier went on to explain what else was needed, even detailing why. Logan leaned against one of the cars in the parking lot, watching the guards go about their duties. After the story, Logan was glad he wasn't standing. It was a lot to absorb.

"You know, I like breaking and entering as much as the next guy, but Charles, have you considered going straight to the source?"

Charles sighed, "I have, but I fear she will be unreceptive."

"Yeah women can be like that." A woman exited the government building, timidly scanning the lot. Once she saw Logan, she made a beeline towards him. He stood.

"Logan, be careful, I certainly don't want her to know what we're trying to do. But this information is of the upmost importance…it could mean everything. We have to know."

The woman stood directly in front of Logan. She smiled. He returned the smile, "Yeah, we do."

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Irene hung up her phone, as she walked towards the house. She felt much calmer after calling him. But then she always did. Normally they would not talk this much over the phone. Usually they met in person, but this situation was causing all kinds of rule changes. She knew if not for Raven, he would be with her. _There's just no choice._

She smoothed her hair, deciding against reentering the house. She wasn't sure if Raven had bugged the place or not. _Better safe..._She felt Raven didn't trust her with everything, and in return Irene didn't trust Raven when it came to Rogue.

She sat on the back patio, holding the phone tightly as she deleted his number. She was hoping for a safe resolution. She hoped he would call her back quickly saying he'd found Rogue, safe and sound, and was bringing her home. If anyone could find her, he could.

Irene took a deep breath. Raven could never know what she was doing with him. It would kill her. Just which _her _was the question…

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She was walking down the street, heading to her favorite place in the heart of the city – a gem hidden down an alley. _squeak scratch_ Rogue glanced around. _What's that noise?_ She passed some people on the street, and heard the scraping sound again. She looked at the traffic. Everything appeared normal. She adjusted her bag, and headed down the alley. Then she heard the noise again. _What is that!?_ Rogue continued to the doors, greeting the hostess. The hostess opened her mouth, but only that metallic scratching sound came out.

Rogue flattened against the wall, her heart pounding. Suddenly scared, she didn't know what was happening. She couldn't find that source of the sound. Her eyes darted around, searching. _Is someone following me? _There it was again. _ clank squeak scratch _It sounded like metal rubbing together. Rogue wanted to scream, but the only sound she could make was that grating metallic noise. It became louder, and Rogue began to run, pushing people out of her way. She flew to the corner, as the light was changing, but Rogue darted into the street. She heard the horn, looked up just to see the car, the driver yelled, no time to stop and...

Rogue woke with a start, her heart racing. She put her hand over her heart as if to still its escape from inside her chest. "It was only a dream." She ran her finger through her hair, taking deep breaths, willing herself to relax. She was still on the train. There was a different rumbling – a new sound, a clanking, metallic scraping noise. It had invaded her dream and woke her from a sound, if uncomfortable sleep. Even so, she felt safer than behind her locked door in her bedroom with Mystique in the house. Since Mystique's arrival, Rogue had not slept well until the night at the lake. Rogue wearily rubbed her eyes with bare hands. No need for gloves because no one was near and she'd eaten earlier.

She stood, stretching her aching back which was protesting the hard wooden bed. She thought about her dream. She was dreaming of her childhood home in Natchez. She had been placed with Irene there when she was only four years old in Jackson, but they moved to Natchez when she was five.

It was a small but older home in the heart of town, right off the main square. They could walk anywhere; everything was nearby in the center of town. Their favorite restaurants were all within a one block radius of their home. Rogue's favorite was a Greek place, Center City Bistro. They had a beautiful courtyard with hanging baskets, flickering gas lamps, a fire-water fountain, and an amazing view of the night sky. It was the place from her dream. Rogue smiled at the memory. They had eaten there at least once a week. Irene said it was a full-sensory experience. It was wonderful until they moved to Brandon. They moved every five years, and Irene never gave her a reason.

Holding to the side of the crate, feeling around the interior of the car, Rogue allowed her eyes to adjust to the dimming light. The air rushing in the open doors was much cooler and smelled of fish and exhaust. She wobbled over the door, gripping the side, and found the sun low in the sky, but it would be hours until sunset. There she saw the reason for the clacking sounds, they were traversing a bridge over the Mississippi river. The metal bridge led straight for Louisiana.

_How long was I asleep?_ She remembered hastily eating, but then she must have conked out, catching up on the lost sleep from the night at the lake. _Seems so long ago now..._ She felt like years had passed since the night at the lake, but it was only hours. She hoped to actually get off the train before it left Jackson, but since falling asleep she'd missed her chance to head back to the Amtrak station. All because of that guy stalking her.

She shook her head. She did not want to be heading to Louisiana. It was so not what she'd envisioned when she'd jumped from her window and made for Ryder's car. Although she knew from experience that life on the run was anything but glamorous. And the cops that always hauled her back, they were anything but kind. Wherever she ran, they caught her and dragged her back to Jackson, to Natchez, and finally that last time to Brandon. She shivered, rubbing her arms. Even though she wore her fleece hoodie, she was cold from the cool damp air – at least that's what she told herself. She reminded herself to put on a sweater, but she didn't move from the door.

Tempting fate yet with firm grip on the door, Rogue leaned headlong into the rushing winds. Closing her eyes, she dreamt of freedom – beyond the cops, beyond Irene, and far beyond the pull of Mystique. Rogue just wanted to get away from those who would force her into some sort servitude for the mere fact that she was a mutant. She wanted to get away from being hunted, from some supposed great cause she knew nothing of and frankly didn't want to know. It wasn't her fight.

She heard enough arguments between Irene and Mystique to know they were using her. They were intent on deposing some mysterious benefactor, an overlord according to Mystique. She wasn't near as naive as they believed. Why she ever allowed them to push her around for so long was beyond her. _That_ wasn't like her, at all. That morning at the lake, that brief respite, had given her time to reflect. She realized she didn't have to kowtow to whatever _they_ wanted. Rogue had a mind of her own, so there was only one choice: to run in order to have a life without their interference. She would have a life where she called the shots – mutant or not.

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It was difficult enough to drive, keeping an eye on the road and one the train, but so far, he'd managed the task fairly easily. That all changed when he saw the girl hanging out of her container car. He almost drove slam off the bridge. He had at first believed she was planning on jumping, maybe she'd rather die than go back; but then she disappeared back inside. He unconsciously released the air he'd been holding.

Cars around him honked and various drivers yelled profanity, and in turn he smiled, dimples and all, and waved. _If only they knew... _He momentarily considered it would have been such a waste, after all that driving, and not getting paid had she jumped. He shook his head chuckling. He was far too young to be so cynical. He told himself that he really didn't care. He was getting paid for the package, intact, safe, sound, and returned to the previous owner. Nothing else really concerned him.

He wished the car's previous owner had better taste in music, his CDs were terrible. He turned the radio station, found a jazz station, and settled back into his seat. Before long he was humming along to the radio, as his mind wandered... _Who is she?_

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His phone rang at the most inopportune time.

Luckily, this time Logan had it set to vibrate. He watched the guards walk down the hall, and turn the corner. He slipped from the closet, unlocked the door to the file room, and entered. He would have to thank Amanda. She'd given him everything to get him this far, and a list of the files he needed.

_After hanging up with Charles, Logan asked, "I thought you were going to wait for me?"_

_She blushed, "I wanted to, but my boss lives by the book. I bought you something though."_

"_I see." Logan admired her from top to bottom._

"_Oh! No, I meant...oh," she stuttered, "I brought what you said you wanted."_

"_Oh yeah?" His brows arching._

"_It's what you said you were looking for. I won't be here tomorrow, but if you give them this," she handed him a folded piece of paper, "It's a list of the files you want. It will let them know what files to pull, and what all you need."_

"_Well, that's right helpful..." Logan looked to her expectantly._

"_Amanda."_

"_Thank you, Amanda."_

_She took a step closer, and added breathlessly, "And there's something else." She slipped a second scrap of paper into his hand, and hurried off._

_Logan looked down to the paper. It was her phone number. Logan smiled mischievously._

He made a quick exit from the government complex with a thick envelope tucked under one arm.

He pulled out his phone and checked the voicemail, "I'm sorry to call, Logan, but Cerebro has detected a new mutant. Please return immediately to the school, even if you haven't finished," Charles ended almost sadly.

Logan smirked, _Good news, Chuck, I got it._

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"Thank you." Mystique answered, and walked from the manager's office. She was feeling anything but gratitude at this point. Her search so far included the airport, which refused to give her any information at all, and the bus station. When she returned as a Homeland Security official, she gained full access gaining access to all the records, videos, logs, and ticket sales. None of it showed Rogue leaving, buying a ticket, or even entering the airport.

The same was true at the bus station. She wondered if Rogue would even take the bus. It was cheaper, and Mystique had to be sure, which was the reason she was now exiting the bus station in Jackson. She headed for the train station on the next block. She remained in her 'official' guise knowing it would get her further than the detective façade, it already had.

She knew Rogue well enough to _know_ what she was thinking, however the girl was resilient and clever. She had not needed to track her for years. Rogue was proving to be spontaneous and unpredictable. This time Rogue was giving her a run for her money. The sun was beginning to set. Rogue took an early lead but Mystique was catching up. But she would need to hurry before the Amtrak station closed. She hurried down the block. Reaching the train station, she grabbed the door handle just as her phone began ringing. She checked the caller, hoping it would be Irene with a vision. It wasn't. Mystique stepped away from the station, walking a few feet away.

"Yes?"

"I've discovered another mutant who would be an asset to your team."

"Good, but I'm currently working with one..."

"Yes, I'm aware but your window of opportunity will be closing since Xavier knows his whereabouts. He's already sending people to intercept."

Mystique cursed silently, "Yes, but..."

He ordered her, "No buts. Get there. Get him first. You can come back to that one if need be."

"Of course."

She slammed the phone shut, and thought about throwing it against the stone wall. Instead, Mystique headed back to the train station, but the attendant was locking up for the night. "Ugh! Why did he have to call now?!"

_No matter, I've tracked her before...I will find her...this isn't over!_

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Crossing the Mississippi River into the small town of McGeehee, he pulled into a rundown gas station. He discovered that the town was a short stop for the freight trains, but a stop none the less, and his 'borrowed' car needed a refill. He had bumped into a few people before his road trip, so he had plenty to fill the tank. He just needed enough to get back into Mississippi with the package.

First things first, he needed to grab her off that train. Glancing over his shoulder, he could see the train pulling into the depot for its unload and reload. The stop should be more than long enough for him to grab her and make a break for it across the state line. He really did not want to be here any longer than he had to...there was just something about Louisiana.

After trailing her for so long, he pretty much memorized the box she was traveling in. When he got to the waiting tracks, things were a bit different. They'd already added some boxes double stacking cars, while removing several others. Some were opened, others closed. Things weren't as crystal as before, and there were three new freight cars the exact same as hers.

He went through several before he found hers. He gave her credit; she'd chosen extremely well. It was an open car for ventilation, because even he knew those cars were stuffy. Her box was closer to the caboose, probably so that if they were checking, she would have plenty of time to hide. This girl was clever; he'd give her that, except he didn't want to. He didn't want to think of her at all. He had a job. He would grab her, take her back, and get paid. She was a job, nothing more...at all. _Yep, just keep repeating that..._

He finally found her boxcar. _This is gonna be easier than I thought. _It was still open. He prepared himself for a fight, but he knew he could take the package down. He pulled out a syringe. He took a deep breath and leapt onto the deck of the boxcar...

which was completely empty.

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	7. Go Fish

**Go Fish**

Rogue pulled her hood down to cover more of her face as she walked through the train yard. With her bag draped diagonally across her, she looked like an average kid making their way home from school, literally on the wrong side of the tracks. She even nodded to several workers, who returned their own. Across the highway, she saw a small gas station. _Great, __food._ Rogue jogged over, jiggling the bells on the door when she entered.

The smell of fresh brewed coffee was the first thing that hit her coming through the door. She promptly grabbed a large cup, and made her way to the sandwich section. She picked up two sandwiches, grabbed a water, and headed for the register.

"How ya doing today?" asked the cashier.

"I'm getting better." The clerk gave her a puzzled face, but said nothing, ringing her up and wishing her a great night.

Outside, Rogue sat on the curb, near a parked car, and began eating while watching the train unload. Chewing, she speculated on whether she should continue by train or take her chances hitchhiking.

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He stood in the doorway of the boxcar, mouth agape. He did a double take, looking outside to make sure he had the right car. He did. It was bare. No cargo and no girl. With the daylight fading, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a lighter. Instead of pushing the button to create a flame, he held the lighter between his fingertips. With a mere touch, he caused the entire lighter to become enflamed. _Ah, __the __irony... _With enough light to examine the boxcar, he took a couple of steps inside illuminating the interior. The car was empty. He was about to turn and leave when a tiny flicker caught his eye. He went to the far right corner, bent down, and found an empty plastic water bottle.

"Gotcha."

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As Rogue finished her first sandwich, she became curious about the driverless car parked at the station's pumps. She threw away her trash, and walked to the driver's door. Cupping her hands around her eyes, she peered inside. It was pretty clean inside, no keys in the ignition, and she could see the door was unlocked. She stole a peek at the cashier inside the store. His back was turned watching television. She glanced around and there was no sign of the owner. With shaky hands, she reached for the door handle...

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He rapidly uncharged the lighter, returning it undamaged to his pocket, and left the boxcar. He figured that she'd beat it when the train workers prepared to unload her box. _She __couldn__'__t __have __gotten __far..._ He raced through the yard, searching for the redhead. He was getting a big payday for the girl, _and __daddy __needs __a __new __set __of __cards..._

He reached the road without any sign of her. He thought maybe he had passed her somehow, and was about to retrace his steps when he saw someone was trying to steal his stolen car. Letting a string of curses fly, he ran into traffic shouting, "Voleur! Get away from my car!"

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Just as Rogue was about to touch the door handle, she jerked away. She tucked a stray white strand behind her ear. While she knew she _could_ steal the car, she reasoned that she needed to get further away from Mississippi than a car would immediately provide. _Back __to __the __train __for __me_... Before heading back to the train, she wanted to freshen up a bit, and get another coffee. She'd overheard the train workers discussing a shipment to Arkansas, and she planned on being part of it.

She stuffed her remaining sandwich and water into her bag, heading back into the store.

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Exiting the restroom, Rogue heard a huge commotion outside the convenience store. She watched shocked as a man attempted to steal the car she just briefly considered stealing. Suddenly a man ran across the highway, shouting in French. The car thief took off with the Frenchman chasing after him. She shook her head, glad it wasn't her.

She poured two more large coffees, paid, and set out for her train.

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He returned to the gas station minus the thief. _I __really __need __a __coffee __now. _Entering the store, he made a beeline for the coffee he began earlier. There sat an empty pot. "What the..."

"Sorry, dude, she cleaned me out. I was just about to start another one." The cashier came from behind the counter, going about starting a fresh pot.

"She? Did she have red hair with white streaks?" he questioned with an arching brow.

"Yeah, she just left, heading back across the highway." The cashier pointed to the train yard.

"Merci!" he replied as he rushed from the store.

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Rogue ambled through the yard, sipping her coffee, while carefully checking the train cars. She wanted one similar to the one she arrived on, but was hoping for one preferably transporting pillows or at least something soft. Standing near a couple of workers, Rogue listened in to their conversation about final destinations. After a few minutes, Rogue got what she needed, and began her search for a particular train. She'd be in another state in a matter of hours and further from Mystique.

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He could not believe she'd been within his grasp and he missed her. He cursed his stupidity. _She__'__s __not __a __mastermind...she__'__s __just __lucky!_ He slammed his hand against the wheel. _I __can__'__t __believe __I __missed __her!_ He drove to the depot just as one train was preparing to leave, effectively blocking him from crossing the tracks. He leaned on the hood of the car, waiting impatiently for the long train to pass. He listened to the men next to him chatting about the Arkansas delivery.

The train began picking up speed as it hit the main tracks. _Finally!_ And that's when he saw her. She poked her out of the container door for the smallest of seconds, but he caught it. Her car was close to the end of the line of cars. He ran to the train. Pushing himself, he ran faster, trying to grab the ladder on the last car. He could see the rail, had his fingertips on the rung, but he couldn't get a good grip on it. His fingers slipped off the rung. He slowed, hands on knees, out of breath. Then his phone rang.

"Oui," he answered dragging the cold air into his lungs.

"Gambit, do you have her?" he asked, right to the point.

"Non, but I know where she's going."

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**Translations:**

**Voleur: thief**

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you to Queenith2, Crossxavier, Marigab, Wolf Skater, and Green Eyed Typhoon for your reviews. I love hearing from you all. Reviews make me smile…a lot. It's great you are curious about what's happening. I love to keep you guessing. ;)<strong>

**After such a long previous chapter, I thought we were due for a shorter one, but hopefully the twists caused some nail biting.**


	8. Seven Up

**Seven Up**

Rogue did not care very much for the new railcar. It was much more cramped than the first. She shrugged to herself, _beggars can't be finicky._ She was, after all, illegally riding on a freight train. Rogue glanced at her watch, and then dug through her bag until she felt it. She pulled out the burner cell Ryder had stopped to purchase on the way to the train yard. Rogue was now glad he had.

Rogue turned the phone on, but the metal car seemed to causing signal interference. She quickly typed her message, entering the recipient's numbers, and headed for the boxcar's open door. She'd only need one second in order to get a signal and click send. She checked for workers as they began moving. Rogue fleetingly stuck out her phone, received a signal, and clicked send. _And now for that other sandwich..._

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Professor Xavier sat in the stark quiet of his study, staring blindly out of the floor to ceiling window behind his desk. He did not see the sun setting, dipping behind the lush green trees at the far side of his property near the cliff's edge. Charles was lost in time. His arms rested on the sides of his chair, his chin resting atop his intertwined fingers. A sad smile curved his lips as his memories tangled with his concerns regarding the present. He absently wondered if he'd made the right choices. Brows drawn together as he reviewed them, his experience self judging each decision – ruling as wistful regrets or worthwhile risks. He inhaled deeply, only to sigh the breath away.

Wading deeply through his past, Charles never heard the door open or the person entering.

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_Arkansas! Whatever is in Arkansas? _ He paced, frown seemingly permanently etched on his features. Frustrated, he gave a bitter shout and threw himself into one of his dark leather chairs. _None of this has gone according to plan_. When he'd received Irene's call, he believed it was to inform him that the girl was ready. Unfortunately, that had not been the case.

He blamed himself. Irene was not thinking properly, making decisions with her heart, and not with her mind. She'd called Mystique, and the shape shifter had only made a mess of things. When Irene had finally called him to fix things, it was too late because the girl was on the run. _She means everything._ He battled within himself, conflicting thoughts fueling his anger. _I should have involved myself sooner. Irene only desired more time with her. I could have prevented it all. I am doing all of this _for_ Irene...for us._

Nervous energy drove him back to his feet, pacing his large room. He swept his hand through his thick hair. He wanted to be there with Irene, to reassure her, comfort her; but he _had_ to stay here, in control, a watcher – uninvolved. Growling, he picked up the closest item, the mantle clock, throwing it against the wall. He was only mildly pleased as he watched it hit and shatter.

For a moment after her call, he'd considered rushing south to capture his prize, but that would've ruined his strategy. He did not want to reveal himself too soon, all would be lost. No, he needed to operate from the shadows just a bit longer, building trust, creating alliances – whether through purchase or plotting, even threats if necessary...sometimes even when not necessary. He was not above dealing pain for winning profit.

This time he chose the subtle approach, surprising even himself. He hired a thief to steal what rightfully belonged to him. However, the thief seemed more interested in charming than capture. She'd outsmarted his hired hand, and it amused him. In fact, he'd been delighted. _So adaptive, she is. _

His pacing brought him to the window, overlooking the city. Lights twinkled as the sun hung low in the sky, night rising from its sleep. But in his mind's eye, he only saw one thing: Rogue.

He smiled, _She'll make a fine trophy...the jewel of my crown..._

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The train station employee locked the door behind him, and left for his much anticipated TV dinner and accompanying programs. A crow watched from its perch. The employee drove away leaving a dark station with a lone vagrant passed out carelessly by the newspaper machine. The crow made its move, gliding down to the sidewalk; only to be frightened away as the vagrant shifted into her true form.

Mystique swiftly headed behind the station, for the back entrance. She had received new orders, but she wasn't done – no matter what _he _said. She would decide when she left for the new mutant, not him. Mystique wanted answers, and they would not wait until she was able to return. She wanted them now. She easily broke in without setting off any alarms – not that she was concerned. Mystique only needed to know if Rogue had been at the station, and if so, where was she heading.

She checked all the records within a week's time frame. Not finding Rogue's name, Mystique hacked into the surveillance footage growing desperate. _She had to have planned this – she covered her tracks too well. She's not this smart!_ She was just about to give up when something on the video caught her eye. She slowed the speed, watching the figure. The form looked familiar, but Mystique couldn't place it. Then in the corner of the frame, a different person pushed their hood down exposing..._Rogue!_ She was standing off center in the footage, but it was clear from the hair that it was indeed Rogue. Mystique nearly squealed with excitement. She continued the video, watching the familiar figure talk with Rogue, and then Mystique watched Rogue leave.

_WHAT?_

Mystique searched through the train records again to no avail. Rogue had left without buying a ticket. Mystique slumped in the chair, unable to believe she had no way of actually knowing where Rogue was or where she was headed. Mystique sat quietly, open-mouthed, staring blankly. For the first time in years, Mystique had no idea what to do.

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Gambit knew where the train was headed, not needing to trail it. But after missing the girl by mere seconds, he was not taking any more chances. The girl clearly must have a guardian angel on her side or else she was really good. His money was on the angel. Wishing he stopped for coffee, he attempted to stretch in the seemingly ever-shrinking car. Gambit was dead tired.

The client had ripped Gambit a new one, after Gambit shared that he'd missed the girl by seconds...again. Well, Gambit didn't tell about losing the girl the first time, or at the gas station. _Yeah, no way I'm telling that!_ Just the third time – he told that. _What's wrong with me? I'm losing my touch!_ There was no way that Gambit was giving the client a second chance to chomp on his butt. Stopping was just out of the question. So he drove into the ever darkening night, attempting to soothe his wounded male thieving pride. _She's just lucky. I'm good. I'm the king of thieves! So how did she..._

He found himself focusing more on the girl than the job. His thoughts wandered to her sassy voice, her emerald eyes, and that cute tush of hers. Gambit pulled off the road into a small convenience store. He needed some coffee, desperately; maybe an energy drink... _And maybe a cold shower..._ Gambit unfolded himself from what he believed was now the tiniest stolen car ever. He stood, watching the train slowly wind down the tracks. Gambit told himself it was because he'd been behind the wheel and needed a stretch. After a moment when he was able to walk again, he headed into the store for his much needed coffee, still stroking his sore male ego.

As he poured an extra large cup of java, Gambit realized it would be hours before he could rest peacefully – and only after he was finished with this job and was rid of _that girl_.

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Irene sat in the dark, reading or at least trying to read. She convinced herself it would be a distraction from all that was happening. But as she ran her fingertips over the dots for the sixth time, Irene faced the truth. Her mind was elsewhere. She closed the book, but stayed seated, losing herself in her memories. She didn't even hear the first ring of her phone.

The second startled her from her reflections. She answered apprehensively, "Hello?"

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"Yeah, that sounds good. I usually make a trip south during the winter," his gruff voice reverberated. "I'll hang onto your number." Logan clicked end. He only called Amanda to thank her, _but I think I may have ended up with a date_. He grinned wolfishly. _All the women love the lone wolf... can't help being a chick magnet..._ Shaking his head from the irony of the thought, Logan dialed the Professor's private line. He got voicemail.

"Chuck, I got what you wanted. I'm heading to the airport now. I'll call before takeoff." He slid the phone into his vest pocket, strapping on his helmet. Logan aimed his bike towards the Jackson airport. He hoped due to the late hour there would be little to no traffic. He wanted to get back to Bayville fast, and get some answers.

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"Irene..."

"Raven, is that you? Where are you? Do you have Rogue?"

"Irene, I...I lost her."

"What? What do you mean 'you lost her'? Do you know where she is?"

"I found her at the train station..."

Irene let out a breath. _Oh thank God! She's alright!_

"...on their video."

"What?!" Irene was becoming frantic.

"She didn't buy a ticket. I don't know where..."

"Raven, are you ok?" Irene had never heard Mystique sound so...broken, hurt.

"No...Yes. I'm fine. Have you had a vision? We need one."

"No, I haven't. I don't know where she is...Raven? Perhaps I should call Rogue's friends, maybe they will tell me something?"

"No," Mystique spat into the phone, "They are useless flesh-bags – a waste of time. I could have caught Rogue if not for wasting time on those _children_."

Irene almost smiled. Mystique was sounding more like herself. "Come back home..."

Mystique laughed coldly, "I can't. _He _called. I have to get back to Bayville. I have to chase a different mutant."

_Yes, that's Raven – back in control of her emotions..._ "I see. What about Rogue?"

"What about her?" Mystique asked cruelly, "if I get my hands on her, I'll tear her apart with my bare hands." She finished cold as ice causing even Irene to shiver.

"You don't mean that."

"Oh, don't I? That stupid, sniveling snot had better pray that I _never _get my hands on her. I'll make her pay worse than ever before. She thought she had it bad then...she doesn't even know what I'm capable of!" Mystique hung up.

Irene sat shocked, frozen in place with her phone still at her ear. "No, Rogue doesn't know what you're capable of...but I do..."

Irene dropped the phone, crying into her hands, "Oh my poor Rogue..."

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Mystique was more than furious, she was livid. _How dare that brat! _ Mystique had sat at the train station, overwhelmed, as her emotions began tumbling out of control. _How do I tell Irene I can't find her? _ She phoned Irene, on the verge of tears. Mystique had been about to breakdown, when Irene mentioned Rogue's friends causing something to snap in Mystique. She realized Rogue was to blame. It was all Rogue's fault. Mystique shouldn't be in a train station looking for the brat. She had plans, which were falling to pieces because of a slip of girl who doesn't even know what she can do with her power. Mystique's distress had quickly flamed into fury. Mystique had lashed out at Irene, threatened to kill Rogue, and smashed her own phone after hanging up on her lover. _Well, at least _he_ can't call me now!_

It was true – she didn't know where to find Rogue. She lost too much daylight, and couldn't chase Rogue in the dark; especially when she had no idea where to look. Rogue had never been so careful. Mystique was left flailing, grasping wildly to guesses and suspicions as to where Rogue went. She had absolutely no solid leads. There were only a few things she knew for sure: Irene did not know where to find Rogue, Rogue had not traveled by bus, train, or air, Rogue did not leave one clue, and Rogue's friends were crazy loons. It didn't add up to much in Mystique's murderous opinion.

Now she was suppose to hunt down another mutant for recruitment into the Brotherhood, her own special evil version of the X-men – which he _allowed_ her to create. There was not enough time to find Rogue, and track down this other mutant. Mystique wanted to scream and pull someone's hair out. _Time..._ Everything revolved around time. She and Irene made these plans years ago. Now time was running out. There was never enough time, and Rogue was wasting her precious time. If only Mystique could ask him to catch Rogue...

Mystique scoffed. Rogue was important, but there was no way Mystique would tell him about the girl. If he ever discovered what Rogue could do, he'd snatch her without warning, and Mystique would never see Rogue again...except in battle. Mystique snarled..._Rogue! _

She would wring the girl's neck when she got her hands on her..._except I _need _her. _But none of it mattered now. He had called, and she had to scurry along like a good obedient rat. She had a so-called job, for now. She headed for the airport.

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Logan tore up the long entrance to the airport. An accident on the highway delayed his anticipated arrival to the airport, which in turn would delay his takeoff and his return to the institute. He was approaching the private plane area of the airport when he caught a hint of something in the breeze. _That smell..._ He knew that smell. Logan dismounted, removed his helmet, cautiously sniffing the air, and then he froze.

_Mystique?_

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	9. Duck Duck Goose

**Duck Duck Goose**

Scott rushed to Ororo's side, scooping her out of the muddy water. He looked to his left for Jean, but she was gone. He began trudging through the mud to get Ororo to safety before the electrical lines hit the water, frying them both. Suddenly the girl who'd absorbed Storm's powers flew at them, out of control, lightning flying from her hands...

Scott bolted upright, hand to his head, ready to fire an optic blast. He couldn't feel his visor, and feeling around he took in the soft sheets and blanket. Scott grabbed his ruby glasses from his nightstand, slid them on, and finally opened his eyes.

He was in his room, at the institute, and everything appeared normal - as normal as it could be in shades of red. Scott could feel his heart rate slowing with each raspy breath. Touching his forehead, he felt the beads of sweat. _The same dream..._

It had been over a week since the encounter with the absorbing girl, as he termed her. They still didn't know anything about her – her name, what happened after she teleported out, extent of powers – nothing. Yet he was still having the same dream, only each time the dream lengthened. This time the dream lasted longer than ever before. She'd never come after him or Ororo. _It's like she's reaching out..._

He told himself she was dangerous, even the dream proved it. She was trying to kill them in the dream, but for some reason Scott could not get the girl out of his mind. He made a mental note to talk to the Professor about it; perhaps the girl had some sort of latent telepathic powers and was reaching for him. _Yeah, man, reaching out to kill you..._

He placed his glasses on the bed next to him, in case the dream returned. He turned on his side, reminding himself the girl was a threat. But as he drifted off to sleep, all Scott could see were her lovely jade eyes wide with fear.

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Ororo knocked again at the door. Charles had missed dinner with the students, which was rare, and he'd been in the study most of the day and night. Concern furrowing her brow, she opened the large oak door, calling out. She entered the huge room, and found Charles facing the windows behind his massive desk.

"Charles, I knocked, but..." Ororo trailed off when he didn't move or respond. She went to his side, discovering his eyes were closed. Ororo smiled thinking that he had been working quite long hours recently and perhaps she'd caught him napping. She touched his left shoulder gently.

"Charles?" He jumped at her touch, shifting swiftly right in his chair, jerking his gaze to hers.

"Ororo? What is it?"

"You missed dinner with the kids, and I was concerned."

Charles smiled, and patted her hand with his own, "Missed dinner? But it's only..." he looked at the clock, "after dinner. Time has gotten away from me."

She returned his smile fondly, "I shouldn't have bothered you just the same," she turned to leave.

Charles turned his chair to face his desk, motioning Ororo to a chair, "Actually I'm glad you did. One shouldn't traipse down memory lane for too long, else to become lost in a maze of reminiscence."

Ororo sat, placing her hands in her lap. She felt the Professor had something on his mind, and hoped he felt free to share. She simply nodded.

He smiled almost to himself, "Clearly, I was almost lost." Charles paused thoughtfully, "Isn't it curious that within the moment we believe we are doing what is right...what is best, but with hindsight we see our mistakes so acutely?"

"Hindsight is perfect, they say."

"Yes, but 'the past is never dead, it is not even past'." His voice held a deep unease.

"Byron?" Ororo attempted to cheer him with their familiar game.

Charles half smiled, "No. Faulkner. But an excellent guess."

Ororo leaned forward in the wingback chair, "Charles, if you need someone to talk with..."

He held up his hand interrupting, "Yes, there are some things I need to explain, but I would rather wait until Logan's return."

"Of course." Ororo stood to leave.

"Ororo?"

She turned back to Charles, "Yes?"

"Was there something else?" He asked, quirking a brow.

"Oh! Yes, there is," Ororo sat again, "I received a call from my sister, Vivian."

"Is this about Evan?" Charles was immediately tense, leaning forward with his attention focused on the regal mocha woman.

"Yes and no," She wrung her hands in her lap, "She's troubled and asked I come for a visit."

Relieved, Charles leaned back in his chair, "Of course, Logan should return shortly. You can leave after a refuel."

She shook her hand signaling 'no', "Not at once, just soon. She, naturally, wants her fears assuaged."

"I see – does she believe Evan is a mutant? Is he showing any abilities?"

"Not that I'm aware, but she feels I would see what a mother cannot."

His expression contemplative, "Of course, I understand."

The silence lingered between them, as each stared at the other. Both wanting to say _something_, neither doing so.

Ororo sighed, "I should go. It's very late."

Frowning, Charles explained, "Uh, yes, I'm awaiting Logan's arrival."

At the door, Ororo paused, looked back, and quoted, "Everyone complains of his lack of memory, but nobody of his want of judgment."

Charles smiled warmly, "Churchill?"

"I heard it somewhere...once. Good night, Charles." She turned, softly exiting.

"Good night, Ororo."

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Logan resisted the urge to release his claws. He certainly didn't need airport security causing any problems with the files on his person. At the same time, he did not desire interference from the blue shape shifter. The animal inside snarled, snapping for liberation, which Logan also did not need. What he _needed_ was to board the plane and head for Bayville, but he _knew_ it would not be that easy – not with Mystique around.

The wind blew, carrying her scent to him. Logan inhaled deeply. Mystique was nearby, and only recently so. His eyes darted from person to person in the inky blackness, his enhanced senses allowing him to see them clearly, but she could literally be anyone. He rolled his bike to the tarmac, trying to catch her smell on those he passed. A white private plane sat prepping for take-off.

Passing an airport worker, Logan asked, "Hey bub, who's that? Some celebrity?"

The worker snorted, "Nah, just some snotty rich broad."

Logan nodded. _It could be hers._ He moved the bike outside a hanger, grabbing an orange vest and hat from inside. He jogged over to the awaiting plane, ducking abroad before anyone could take notice. Inside the small jet, he was overwhelmed by Mystique's scent. The beast inside clawed for control, wanting a fight – desiring a piece of her flesh. She was everywhere on the plane, but not physically. He proceeded to search the plane for any reason why she'd be there.

Inside a small closet at the back of the plane, he found a black case. He placed it on the floor to open it, when he heard the crew boarding. _Holy..._ He had to get off now, but he'd have to go pass the crew...or through them. Logan weighed his options, again reminding himself that he did not need to be caught with the files or the case. He quickly stripped the orange vest, wrapping the suitcase, and darted into the lavatory.

Hearing a flush, the attendant called out, "Ma'am, are you there?"

Logan smirked. He took a deep breath, stepped out, zipping his jeans. "Sorry, darling, but nature called," flashing a wicked grin.

Her gaze was locked where his hands still lingered, looking up she realized she'd been caught...admiring his package. The poor girl blushed to her roots, "Ah...well...you shouldn't be here," she managed to stammer.

Logan continued his act, "No ma'am, probably not," tucking the vest-wrapped case under his arm, he brought his face within inches from her own, "but how else does one find an angel?"

The woman drew a quivering breath, as he backed her against a seat.

His lips curled into a libidinous smile just a breath from hers, "Now, if you'll excuse me...Have a good flight darling," walking past her, he smacked her butt for good measure.

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Abygail checked the phone again. It was definitely from her. She pulled out her cell, calling Ryder.

"Did you get it?"

Aby released the breath she'd been holding. "Good, so it _is_ from Rogue."

"Yeah, if we both got the message – that was what we decided on." His serious voice reassured her.

"So are you going to tell her about Misty or should I?"

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Gambit yawned, rubbing his eyes, and stretched again. He nodded to the gas station worker, "I'm gonna get another cup."

"You know, you could get that big ol mug there for just four dollars."

"Merci, I believe I shall." As he reached for the mug, something captured his attention. He ambled over to the rack, glancing to check on the train's progress. It was stopped, probably for a crossing. He fingered the item, before removing it from its hook.

Gambit poured the gigantic insulated mug full to the brim, and snagged two energy drinks from the cooler. He placed his purchases on the counter. The cashier shot him a puzzled look, but only asked, "That all?"

Gambit smirked, "Oui. That should do the job."

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Mystique had watched Wolverine drive up to the private side of the airport. Clearly he was following her, but she was surprised she'd only just noticed him. She watched him sniff the air, _like some dog in heat..._She'd been in her Darkhölme appearance for boarding, but quickly shifted into an airport employee. Mystique wandered over an employee lounge to wait out his hunt for her. Sitting on a second hand sofa, she feigned interest in a magazine. She checked her watch, noting she had plenty of time, and could effortlessly outwait him.

An airport worker stuck his head inside the door, "Eddie!"

"Uh, yeah?" Mystique responded.

"You're supposed to refueling flight one-eighteen."

She glanced at her watch, _five minutes..._ "Yeah, I'm heading that way now." She exited the building, and saw no sign of Wolverine. Mystique headed for the shadows to shift again into her Darkhölme persona before walking straight for her plane.

The attendant, smoothing her hair, greeted Mystique, "Welcome aboard. We are prepared for departure. Are you ready Ms. Darkhölme?"

"Yes, I am." Mystique took a window seat on the plush aircraft adding, "Please let me know when I can make a call." The crew member nodded, adjusting her skirt.

She was disappointed to be leaving without Rogue, but pleased for the reprieve from the girl. She stared out of the window for a while after the plane took off. Mystique had not even told Irene she was leaving. She planned to call her from the air, and apologize for the argument earlier. She had her spare phone in her bag, needing one since she'd smashed the last cell.

"Ms. Darkhölme, the pilot says you may use your phone now, if you'd like."

"Thank you." Mystique removed her seatbelt, and headed for the back of the jet. She went to the tiny closet, opened it, reaching to the top shelf for her bag. Mystique pulled out her second phone, dropping it. As she bent to retrieve it, she gasped. _The case!_

She quickly knelt, digging through the bottom of the closet. _It's not here!_ _Where?!_ _Oh no!_ Enraged, Mystique stood up and without thinking ran to the door.

_Wolverine!_

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	10. Tic Tac

**Tic Tac…**

Jean could not remember if she had brushed her hair. Giving her scarlet locks the once over, she shrugged to herself, and picked up her brush. As she combed her hair for what could have been the fourteenth time, she chewed her lower lip. There seemed to be an air of anxiety throughout the institute. _Telepathy. __Not __as __fun __as __advertised... _Jean put down her brush, deeming it acceptable whether fully untangled or not. "It's not like they are going to hold the first bell for me to get my hair right!" Jean smirked at her joke, grabbed her bag, and headed down for breakfast.

Outside her room, Jean found Kitty going the same direction, but with her head stuck in a book. "Morning Kitty."

"Morning," mumbled Kitty, not bothering to look up.

Jean opened her mouth to say something else, but decided Kitty would be more talkative after food. That changed however, when Kitty almost fell down the stairs.

"Kitty, watch where you're going," Jean warned.

A bleary-eyed Kitty looked up and yelped. "Oh my gosh!" Suddenly wide awake, Kitty cringed, "I totally almost took a header down the stairs!"

Jean took the book from the girl, checking the cover, "Math?"

"There's like a super humongous test today, and," rolling her eyes dramatically at Jean; Kitty whined, "I so hate math!"

Jean laughed aloud, "You're brilliant! You could probably go your entire life and never crack a book, and still pass with flying colors."

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, they turned for the dining hall. Kitty reached for her textbook, "Maybe, but lately I've been feeling…antsy. It's like there's something…I don't know what but it's got me flipping out."

Jean nodded, "You and me both, Kitty," as they entered the hall where most meals were served. Other times they just piled into the large kitchen for a meal, creating a homey and intimate atmosphere.

The dining room was massive, like most of the rooms at the institute, and painted a neutral taupe. A huge mahogany table centered the room with two long buffets along the parallel walls. On the opposite end of the room, floor to ceiling windows opened onto the immense lawn of the mansion, allowing the room to be lit without the aid of artificial light.

Kurt was seated, begging to eat as Ororo encouraged him to wait for everyone. Scott had his head on the table, either asleep or wishing he was. Logan was mysteriously missing, as was the Professor.

For Jean, the air became thicker, even more tense. She couldn't help but feel it was because of the Professor's absence, and maybe even Logan's.

"Good morning, girls," Ororo greeted when they entered. "Did you see the Professor by chance?"

"No," answered Kitty, who promptly sat and resumed studying.

"Jean?"

"No, Ms. Munroe, I didn't, but I could go…" Jean eyeballed the food, her stomach growling, but turned for door just the same.

"Oh, no child. Sit. Eat," Ororo interrupted, "You all have to get to school. I'll go see what's keeping him." Leaving the room, she told them to start without her.

Jean took a seat across from Scott, who had only just lifted his head. Kurt did not need any more encouragement and began to dig into breakfast. Kitty finally came up for air, lamenting at Kurt to leave some food for the rest of them. Jean quickly snatched a plate of pancakes before Kurt inhaled them. Turning towards Scott, she teased, "Late night?"

As he reached for some eggs, he shrugged a shoulder, "Sleepless is more like it."

"Monsters in your closet?" she smiled, shoving a forkful of the warm pancakes into her mouth. _Buttery __goodness__… _She sighed. _This __is __heaven._

Scott finally smiled, but even with the ruby quartz glasses she saw the shadows under his eyes. "Not this time. It's this dream I've been having." He ran his fingers through his hair, as if to wipe it from his brain. He drank some of his juice, "Sometimes I can't get back to sleep…after." He looked down, studying his eggs.

"I feel it too." Jean replied taking another heaping forkful of the syrup laden pancake. Scott's head shot up.

"What? You're having nightmares?"

Furrowing her brows, Jean shook her head mumbling around the bites in her mouth, "Mmm…No." She held up a finger, took a drink of orange juice, and cleared her throat. "Sorry but those are so good, I can't help it." Smiling guiltily, she continued, "It's more of this feeling in the mansion – like an intensity in the air. I feel it all over, but more strongly today." She waved a hand, "It's difficult to explain…I just assumed it was a telepathic thing."

"Oh." Scott looked absolutely defeated.

"You can tell me about it, if you want?" Jean offered as she sliced off another bite of her flapjacks.

Scott took a mouthful of egg, chewing thoughtfully. Swallowing he wiped his face, "Nah, it's ok. I'm just tired. I'll talk to the Professor later."

Another large hunk of pancake hung from her fork, dripping syrup, as she pondered, "Speaking of…where is the Professor?"

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Kitty stole a glance at Scott and Jean, who appeared to be having an intense conversation. She did not want to interrupt, but felt the need to tattle of Kurt for stealing all the sausages.

"Kurt, do you _really _need to consume that much food?"

"Ja, I'm a growing fuzzy dude," He smiled around the sausage in his mouth, creating a shiny red, porky grin. Jean looked around, caught the sausage smile, and almost snorted her pancakes laughing.

Kitty giggled in spite of herself, then put on a serious face lecturing, "Ugh! Really you should so still save some for the others, you know?"

"Sicher, I will, pass the eggs!" Kurt request, even as he made a grab for them.

Kitty could no longer contain herself, "Scott!" Scott snapped around. "Kurt's eating everything…and then some!"

Scott cleared his throat, "Dude! Leave something for Ms. Munroe."

Kitty scrunched her nose, "If Mr. Logan was here, you'd like already be missing a limb."

Kurt shrugged and continued eating anything not nailed down.

Scott surveyed the room, "Speaking of…Where is Logan?"

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"And just to be clear, all of this is anonymous, right? ... Thank you so much." Mystique sneered as she shut her phone. She leaned back in the smooth leathered seat, fingers curling around the armrest.

"Did you want any breakfast, Ms. Darkhölme?" the attendant asked.

Smiling as though she'd already consumed the canary, "Yes, breakfast sounds lovely."

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Logan sat in the security office tapping his foot. He'd been here for hours already, and the feeling to slice up the gray peeling walls steadily increased with each passing second. He should have been in the air, flying home to Bayville, yet he was stuck inside the airport's security office after they received an anonymous tip about the Blackbird. He crossed his arms and snorted. _This __is __a __complete __load __of__…_

"Um…Mr. Logan?"

His head snapped around at the man entering the confined space they called an office. The unimposing man sat behind the particleboard desk, shuffling through a file. He cleared his throat, straightened his gray tie on his grayer suit, and smoothed his receding gray hair. "There seems to be some sort of problem here."

Logan grunted, "You got that right, bub."

The gray man looked up at Logan for the first time, and blanched. "Uh…uh…well, it seems…" He stuttered.

"Spit it out."

"There was anonymous call about your plane, and we take those threats quite serious here. The caller was _very _specific."

Logan leaned forward, "Is that so?"

The man gulped, "Yessss...ssir."

Logan leaned back in his chair, setting his right ankle onto his left knee, "Tell me about it."

The little man wheezed as if Logan planned to eat him there on the spot. "We just needed to check your plane before departure. Everything checked out," Smoothing his gray tie again, "We're sorry to have held you up, but we can never be too careful. However, you are clear to leave now."

"So what you're telling me is that after holding me for hours and checking my plane from top to bottom – I can go?"

"Yessss...ssir."

"Yeah. Not gonna happen." Logan stood, placed his fists on the flimsy desk, and leaned towards the gray man, "You're gonna tell me what exactly that caller said, and what you did about it," he literally snarled.

After another hour of information gathering, Logan made his way onto the plane. It had taken a while, but he'd gotten every drop of knowledge the gray man had on him, the plane, and the called in tip.

He closed the jet door, and went immediately to the wisely installed compartment hidden from view. He removed the false panel, and turned the lock. The plate opened revealing the black case along with the files he'd retrieved for Xavier, safe from prying eyes. Luckily, before the security team removed him from the plane, he'd stashed the items in the lockbox, but just barely. He breathed a sigh of relief, returning them to the safe.

As he taxied down the runway, he growled trying to soothe his inner beast who raged inside snarling for blood. And a specific blood type...Mystique's.

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Ororo stood in the hallway, confused. Xavier had not come down to breakfast, but his room was immaculate. Frowning, she went downstairs. Nearing the dining room, she could hear an argument erupt, but instead of entering she passed by the doors. Concern driving her to the study, she knocked on the tall wooden doors. No one answered. _If __he__'__s __not __here, __where __is __he? _Curious, she pushed open the door, peering inside.

The entire left wall was covered in bookcases; opposite sat an oversized fireplace with a marble mantle. Near the windows was his desk, but currently he was not behind it. In the middle of the room was the comfortable conversation area, complete with Oriental rug, leather sofa, end tables, and two heavy wingback chairs – matching the guest chairs in front of Charles' desk. Near the sofa sat his wheelchair.

Ororo padded softly into the room. Coming around the sofa, she spied Charles asleep, one leg hanging off the couch, a crochet blanket haphazardly spread across his body.

She whispered, "Oh, Charles, were you here all night?" Charles stirred, but didn't wake.

Ororo gently placed his leg back onto the sofa, tucking his foot under the spread, covering him up more fully. She stroked the fire, dispelling the chill in the air. She left the room, taking care not to wake him as she shut the door. Looking down the hall, the kids spilled out leaving for school, calling their 'goodbyes'. Ororo waved back as she walked to the dining room, hoping they'd left some food for her.

Absently she wondered why Charles had slept in his study. She thought perhaps he was reading and fell asleep, but then she remembered, _No__…__he __mentioned __something __about __waiting __for __Logan__… __Where __is __Logan? __Whatever __did __Charles __send __him __for?_

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Kurt aimed for Scott's car, gripping his pancake and egg sandwich, taking a huge bite. Scott glared at him, "No way, man! You're not eating in my ride. I just cleaned it out _again._" shooting Kurt a look.

"Oh man! Come on."

Jean settled into the passenger seat, bucked her seatbelt, and commented, "You're dripping."

"Gross, dude. No way. Eat it or throw it away." Scott got behind the wheel, muttering to Jean.

Kitty giggled as she walked with Kurt to the car, "Just finish it so we can go."

Stopping Kurt stuffed the reminder of his hastily made sandwich in his mouth, and warbled, "Umm…Kiddy, do ewl eber thik abut dat gurl?"

Kitty covered her mouth, trying not to gag, "Kurt, please for the love of all that is holy, do not talk with your mouth full. Swallow."

Kurt gulped.

"No I take that back – chew, then swallow." Kitty looked green.

"Traurig, I asked 'do you ever think about that girl?'" as he wiped his hands on his jeans.

Kitty attempted to recover, "What girl?" Arriving at Scott's car, she slid into the backseat, while Kurt ported next to her.

"You know. The one we tried to recruit…" Kurt explained as he buckled his belt.

Scott and Jean turned around in their seats. "The rogue mutant? From Mississippi?" Jean asked.

"Ja."

Kitty tucked a hair behind her ear, "Like, I don't know – why?"

"Yeah, Kurt, what's got you thinking about her?" Scott questioned apprehensively.

"Well, it's just...I had this dream…"

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**Translations:**

**Sicher : Of course**

**Traurig: Sorry**

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><p><strong>Thank you to Wolf Skater, TrickyBusiness, Crossxavier, and Roguelover321 for your reviews. Hang in there; because we will learn about that case, those files, and just what Xavier was thinking <strong>_very_** soon. Hopefully all your questions will be answered, but that might create more questions… ;)**

**Please review and let me know if you like it! I love the feedback and encouragement! Also, the next chapter should be up soon!**


	11. Toe

… **Toe**

Rogue felt as though she was being gently rocked to sleep, but then a sudden lurch had her reaching for something to hold. Slowly cracking an eye, she found that her 'something' was now her smushed sandwich, while her left hand was clutching the bottle of water. She straightened from her half-leaning position against a crate filled with unknown goods, and wrapped the deformed sandwich up, stuffing it into her bag, along with the bottle. _Might __need __a __snack __later..._ Rogue carefully eased herself into a standing posture. She had quickly learned sleeping in a boxcar was not the least bit romantic, adventurous, or comfortable; but she had not intended on falling asleep either. Somewhere between two hot coffees, a turkey sandwich, and the motion of the train, she had fallen in a dreamless sleep.

However considering her nights up until recently, she was overdue for a much needed visit from the sandman. Squinting against the bright sun pouring into the container, Rogue hooked her bag over her head, and made her way towards the opening. She could feel the train slowing, which could mean two things: either they were arriving at their destination, or this was yet another unforeseen stop. _Again, __trains__ – __not __built __for __fast __getaways..._ Rogue yawned and wiped her hands on the dark denim covering her legs. There was still a chill in the air, so she decided to keep her emerald sweater on over her hoodie. Poking her head out into the onslaught of cold air, she discovered that they were indeed arriving at their destination – the town of Pine Bluff, Arkansas.

_Time __to __get __proactive..._Tucking a stray wisp of crimson behind her ear, Rogue pulled on her gloves, leaned out of the car, and grabbed onto the nearby ladder. She knew if the train slowed more the cars would buck a bit during the halting process. _Now __or __never._ Drawing in a deep breath, Rogue jumped.

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Drinking the last cold bits of his coffee, Gambit watched the train slowly rolling to a stop. Since he already knew where the train had been headed, after purchasing a massive coffee, he drove directly to the town. He even managed to catch a few winks, but was still running on empty. Gambit opened the car door, and stood with insulated mug in hand. Turning back to the car, he rested his left forearm atop the roof, while pouring out the wet grounds from his mug. He shook whatever remained loose, and set the mug next to him and rested his chin on his crossed arms.

He didn't need to watch the train anymore, she wasn't on it. He saw her in the rearview mirror when she leapt from the car. _I __don__'__t __know __if __I__'__d __done __it..._ At first, he was concerned. His orders were that the package be unharmed, but then he watched in admiration as the girl jumped right up and took off running in the opposite direction. _Wildcat_. He smiled appreciatively in spite of himself. _Another __place, __another __time__…__ce __qui __pourrait __être..._He sighed, watching the wildcat slow to a walk as she pulled her hood over her head.

_But for now, I have a job...c'est la vie…_

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"You've been dreaming about _that __girl_?" Scott was stunned. _If __I__'__m __not __the __only __one..._

Jean interrupted his thoughts, "What _is _the dream, Kurt?"

"Well, it's just like what happened. I dream we're in that garden, I'm talking to her, and Kitty jumps her behind..."

"Hey! Not fair!" Kitty interjected, "I thought we were supposed to..."

"We know, Kitty, it's ok," Scott patted her hand, "He's just telling what happens in the dream. Go on."

"Ja, Kitty, it is ok. We didn't know her then."

Jean looked puzzled, "What do you mean 'didn't know her _then'_?"

"It's just …in the dream…I talk to her over and over. I can't explain – it's like I know her somehow." Kurt shrugged; "I know it's just a dream, but…" he surveyed each face, "it _feels_ real."

Jean gasped. Kitty reached for Kurt's hand. Scott covered his mouth with his hand.

Taking in their reactions, Kurt suggested, "Maybe I should talk to the Professor?"

Jean nodded, "I think that might be best."

"Maybe I should too." All eyes turned to Scott's soft spoken comment.

"Why?"

"Because, Jean, _I've_ been dreaming about her too."

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A loud pop from the fire, caused him to wake. Charles, eyes still closed, mentally attempted to get his bearings. The hard leather underneath him definitely was not his mattress. The sunlight glared through the large window, censuring his sleep. Pulling himself upright, he began to remember…he'd been waiting for Logan. Rubbing his scalp, Charles realized that he must have drifted asleep. He righted his shirt, and folded the blanket he'd found covering him. Charles then shifted into his wheelchair. _I __need __to __call __Logan._ He took a moment to 'look' through the mansion for Logan's presence. Not finding Logan anywhere, he wondered, _Where __is __he?_

Suddenly he heard static. He quickly covered the distance to the small room hidden behind the false wall left of his desk. He depressed the button, opening the wall, and heard the call from the console built into Cerebro. "Chuck?...Ar…you…ere?...Chuc…"

Charles swiftly grabbed the microphone, "Logan? Can you hear me?"

"Hey Chuck, I can hear you. Glad I finally got you."

The Professor released a deep breath, "What happened? Where are you?"

Logan growled, "Mystique happened. But I think I got something... I'll be landing soon."

Charles tensed, "The girl?"

Logan answered disconcerted, "I ain't seen her since that night, Chuck. She wasn't with Mystique, and I didn't catch her scent either."

Relieved Charles slumped in his chair, "Of course, good."

"You get my message?"

"Yes, about the files?" Charles became uneasy again.

"That red tape, consider it shredded."

"Thank you, old friend." The Professor fixed himself upright once more. "Well, once you've returned and rejuvenated, the three of us need to meet and I can explain..."

Logan interrupted, "I don't want _rest_. I want answers."

Charles sighed, "Yes, I'm sure you do."

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Ororo poured the cream into her coffee, and watched the black swirl into a buttery toffee color. Glancing up, she noticed the kids had still not left for school. They appeared to be holding a heated debate. Scott and Jean were turned completely around in their seats facing Kitty and Kurt in the back of the car. Ororo checked her watch. Frowning, she decided there was no way she would be calling the school to explain their lateness.

_They__'__re __bound __to __be __late __if __they __do __not __leave__…__perhaps __they __require __a __nudge?_ She grinned mischievously, and opened the window. With a graceful wave of her hand, the winds suddenly picked up, pulling leaves from trees, and dandelion seeds blew away from their stems. Her eyes went white and the sky became dark, as she sent a 'reminder' to the kids.

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"Was it supposed to rain today?" Kitty looked up and held out a hand.

"Did you just say that you are dreaming about that girl, Scott?" Jean was undeterred.

"Ja, why is so dark?"

"Yeah, Jean, I believe that's what I just said."

All of a sudden a lightning bolt landed just inches from the hood of Scott's car. All four teens screamed.

"What the…?" Scott looked around, and spotted Ororo watching them from the dining room window.

Jean followed his gaze, and gasped, sighting Ororo who smiled and waved.

"Guys, I think we like totally need to leave like right _now_."

Jean turned back to Scott, "Yes, we can pick this up later."

Frowning, Scott waved back at Ororo, cranked the car, and turned it down the long drive.

"Whatever you say, Jean."

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Rogue bent her knees for impact, then rolled into a crouching position. The landing had taken some wind out of her, but she knew she needed to hightail it before she was spotted by the train workers. She jumped up, taking off in a run to her intended target – about a mile back they'd passed a motel. Rogue was hoping for a shower.

Slowing to a walk, Rogue could not shake the feeling she was being watched. _I __don__'__t __think __Mystique _could _know __where __I __am. __I __left __them __clueless._It wasn't enough for Rogue, and she snatched the hood back on her head. She wasn't cold. She was paranoid. _I __don__'__t __know __what __Mystique __can __do__ – __if __anything._ _Other __than __being __blue, __what __makes __her __a __mutant? _Rogue knew time and distance were the only things that would make her feel comfortable, and until then she resolved to stay alert. _I__'__m __not __taking __chances. _Now was not the time to let her guard down.

Rogue stopped short, alarmed. _Someone _is _watching __me._ She turned deliberately in a complete circle, scanning her surroundings. Rogue looked at the motel. _About __half-mile __to __go..._ Searching behind her, in the distance she could see the train depot with people milling about. But while she couldn't find anyone watching her, it did little to ease her anxiety.

She immediately turned and headed towards the stucture across the highway from the motel, the mall.

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Gambit swore, slamming his fist into the hood of his stolen car. _She__'__s __gonna __be __the __death __of __me!_ He knew she'd been headed to the motel, making his job much easier. He figured he would take her either while she slept or as she was leaving the establishment. He'd groaned when she did exactly the opposite of his expectations. _She __sweeps __into __town __and __just __like __a __woman __beelines __it __for __the __mall._ He snorted at his joke, and then he sighed. Shaking his head, _Ain__'__t __no __way __I__'__m __telling __metal head __about __this..._

Scratching his head, Gambit considered his options. There was always the choice of just running her down and snatching her, but people might see and call law enforcement. While he knew he could handle the cops, it would get messy…and loud. Gambit preferred a quieter approach. Closing his eyes, Gambit dropped his head back face to the sky.

_Why couldn't it have been a kitten, instead of a wildcat?_

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**Translations:**

**ce qui pourrait être : what could be**

**C'est la vie : such is life **

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><p><strong>Thank you <strong>**to Wolf Skater, TrickyBusiness, and xmen4life for your reviews. I _love_ the feedback and encouragement!**

**I didn't get this chapter up as soon as I wanted, but as you know – life sometimes rears its ugly head. Please review and let me know if you like it! And hopefully, the next chapter should be up soon****!**


	12. Twister

**Twister**

Ororo couldn't help but chuckle as Scott tore down the drive, and out of the gates. She felt a bit sorry, but only a tiny bit. _That __will __teach __them __not __to __be __late._ She stifled another burst of laughter, but ended up gasping for breath as she roared even harder. She knew she should not but the more Ororo tried not to, the more she giggled. That is until she heard someone clear their throat.

Ororo picked up her coffee mug, and turned to face the doorway, feigning innocence. Taking a sip of her caramel flavored bliss, she smiled impishly.

"Good morning, Ororo," Charles greeted with raised brows.

Attempting nonchalance, she returned his greeting, "To you as well. Did you rest peacefully on the sofa?"

The Professor opened his mouth to say something, but never got the chance. Ororo suddenly produced an unladylike snort, threw her hand over her mouth, as she tried and failed to suppress the giggles. She looked at him with wide amused eyes.

Charles stared back agape, "Ororo?"

His question only amplified the chortles into full blown laughter with Ororo holding her stomach trying to set her mug down before she dropped it. Half bent, she continued chuckling, and gasping.

Confused Charles thought she sounded a bit like a piglet. Charles shook his head. _I __do __not __understand __women._"I'm going to my room to freshen up then I'll return for breakfast. And afterwards," he hesitated, "I need to meet with you and Logan."

Ororo almost fell over, but instead she dropped into a nearby chair. Unable to produce a syllable, she waved him off still giggling unabashedly.

He could still her laughter as he got onto the elevator. Despite his uneasiness, he found himself smiling.

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Rogue arrived at the mall doors to see there was still an hour before they opened. She looked at the parking lot. _Guess __the __lack __of __cars __should __have __warned __me__… _She noticed employees arriving for work. _That__'__s __a __good __sign._ Rogue thought she could always break in, but in reality she did not want to deal with the cops either. _By __now, __Irene __has __probably __called __them__… __no __need __to __announce __my __presence._

As her stomach grumbled, she surveyed the restaurants surrounding the mall. There were three, two fast food, and one…not so fast; but none open. Rogue sat down on a nearby planter, taking out her half full bottle of water. There was nothing to do but wait…

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_There__'__s __nothing __to __do __but __wait... _Logan tapped his foot impatiently even as he held the jet steady. Holding the Blackbird hovered; Logan growled waiting for the waterfall to recede, uncovering the hidden entrance of the hangar. He was tired and desired rest, but also wanted to speak with Xavier. He knew some of the reasons why he'd been sent back to Mississippi, and he had his suspicions, but he wanted confirmation…and maybe breakfast. His stomach growled back at him. _Yeah, __definitely __breakfast._

Logan went through the checklist of landing procedures before heading to the back of the jet. He opened the ramp, so that he could roll out his motorcycle. But before he did, he removed the panel hiding the safe. Punching in the combination, Logan prayed they would find something useful in the case he snagged from Mystique. _After __all, __being detained __by __security _had _better __be __worth __something!_ Logan snarled just thinking about it.

He opened the door, removing the case, and the expandable file folder stuffed and overflowing with folders. He threw both in his duffle, and headed down the ramp with his bike. After stowing his bike, he headed for the upper floors of the mansion, and some answers.

_He has some explaining to do._

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"I just don't know why you wouldn't tell _me_. _Me_ of all people. How many of these dreams have you had?"

Scott sighed deeply, looking at his feet in all their various shades of red. He didn't know how to answer Jean. _This __is __exactly __why __I __didn__'__t __tell __you._ Shutting his locker, he finally looked at her, "Because…I figured it was just a dream, so it didn't mean anything," specifically avoiding the question regarding the number.

With his locker door shut, Jean could now see his face, the wrinkles creasing his forehead, the slope of his brows, and the frown tugging at the corner of his lips. Jean felt bad for pushing the subject, but was proud of herself for actually waiting until their mutual class. She felt as if she'd been lied to somehow. "Clearly it meant something if you hid it from me."

Scott stared at her. Jean crossed her arms. "Are you rolling your eyes at me?"

_Yes. _Then he gave a small smile, "No. I was just wondering _why_ a dream has you so upset. It's not like we're dating."

Jean took a deep breath, ran her fingers through her scarlet locks, and shifted her stance. Looking away, she wondered _why_ it did bother her so much. She knew she didn't like Scott romantically, they were friends, but still there was something.

"Have you been feeling anxious lately?"

"Um…Why yes, Major Change of Subject," Scott smirked.

"I'm serious. It's like this visceral air – almost tangible feeling …I can't explain…" Jean waved her hands as if to pull the words she needed out of thin air.

"Yeah, like what Kurt said." Scott mumbled.

"What?" Startled, Jean grabbed Scott's arm. "Say that again!"

Covering her hand with his own, Scott reiterated, "Kurt said he couldn't explain the dream, that it _felt _real." He understood what she was saying now.

"Did yours?" she asked quietly.

Scott looked around before facing Jean, "Yeah…it did. Very real."

Goosebumps covered Jean's arms, she pulled her hand from Scott's. "We need to talk to the Professor."

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Logan walked into the mansion, and choked back his urge to shout for Charles. He was letting the animal inside rear its head, due to sleep deprivation causing an increasingly short fuse. _I__'__ll __blame __Mystique. __It__'__s __all __her __fault. _"Kill her slowly…" he grumbled under his breath.

Stopping, he lifted his face, sniffing. He smelled pancakes and coffee. He closed his eyes, looked upwards, and exclaimed, "Thank you!"

"There's no need to look to the heavens. This goddess is in front of you," Ororo smiled wickedly.

Despite his fool mood, Logan laughed, "Good to see ya too," as he moved towards her.

She closed the gap, giving him a light hug, "You also. Wherever have you been?"

Logan curled his lip, "Mississippi."

Ororo's brows rose, "That bad?"

Logan took a deep breath, then replied, "No. It was Mystique."

She nodded. "Ah, that explains enough for now," smiling playfully, she poked his ribs, "Later, I'll want more."

Now it was Logan's turn for raised eyebrows, "More?"

Ororo threw her head back and laughed heartily, "Story!" and gave him a swat. Then she linked her arm with his, and walked him to the dining hall, "How about some coffee?"

Logan tossed the duffle on his shoulder, and teased, "I'm tempted by a goddess...again," and was rewarded with more throaty laughter.

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Gambit watched the girl wait for the mall to open. _Now __that__'__s __persistence__ – __that __girl __gonna __shop __today __no __matter __what!_ He was so tired, tired of bad coffee, tired of that stupid car, and he was very tired of following that girl. _I__'__m __tired __and __sick __of __this __job__._

He considered approaching her right now, but carrying her back over a mile was out of the question. His muscles were still screaming about the size of the car. Running his hand over his face, he contemplated leaving the job unfinished. _Non. __Out __of __the __question__ – __we __do __not __leave __jobs __undone._ He slumped down the wall, and pulled out a deck of cards. He was stuck with this job whether he liked it or not.

As he played his seventeenth game of solitaire, he glanced up and straightened. Someone was opening the door, letting the girl inside. He gathered his cards and shoved them into the back pocket of his jeans. _Finally._ _Time __to __get __this __over __with._

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Rogue looked around at the so-called food court. It consisted of three restaurants: Italian, Chinese, and Mexican. _Decisions, __decisions__…_ There were still a few minutes before they officially opened, so Rogue browsed the stores. The only money she intended to spend was on food and lodging, but when a deep eggplant sweater caught her eye she reconsidered.

It was a soft hoodie pullover in a beautiful rich purple. She touched the fabric gently. The salesperson approached her, smiling, "It's cashmere and it's on sale."

"Oh yeah? How much?" Knowing she could not afford the soft blend.

"Only fifteen. It got snagged when we unpacked it. So the manager lowered the price," the blonde lifted the hem, exposing a minuscule tear, "See?"

"Yeah, but I'll take it," Rogue smiled. She knew she didn't have anywhere cold enough to wear it. _There__'__s __only __one __month __of __cold __in __Mississippi usually__…__but __I__'__ll __make __the __most __of this sweater..._

The salesclerk took it to the register. "Who knows – if you know how to knit, you could fix it."

Rogue frowned a bit, "I don't, but I still want it. It's beautiful."

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Again, Logan found himself laughing. Ororo often had that affect on him. She'd been retelling the story of 'encouraging' the kids to be on time for school. Wiping her eyes, she chuckled, "I couldn't help but think what would've happened had you been there."

Logan grunted, "They'd be taking the bus. I would probably have sliced up the hood instead."

"Or you would be driving them," added Charles, who had just appeared in the doorway.

"Charles! Finally! I was about to give up on you." Ororo stood, picking up a plate, and made a place for him at the table. "I even made fresh pancakes."

"Huh. She had to." Logan stated proudly. He ate everything the kids left and then half of the freshly prepared food.

Ororo slapped his shoulder, and joked, "It's not the kids we have to worry eating us out of house and home," gracing them with a smile.

The Professor chuckled, "No, I suppose it's not."

"Did you want breakfast Charles?"

"Yes, but…"

Logan interrupted, "It's ok Chuck, have some breakfast. It'll hold."

"Then thank you, Ororo, I will have some."

"Good. I'm going to make some tea, and then we can have that talk you mentioned earlier." Then she glided from the room, oblivious to the mounting tension, leaving the men alone.

"I'm glad you're back, Logan." Charles commented as he clapped Logan's shoulder.

Logan grunted, shoveling four pieces of turkey bacon into his mouth, "Yeah because I got what you wanted."

Charles sighed, "No. I'm glad you're back safe. I did not know Mystique would be there."

Logan wiped his mouth, tossing the napkin on his empty plate, and leaned back in the chair, "Yeah, I know. Long night. I didn't expect her either."

Ororo entered through the side door, sat again at the table's head, and with a twinkle in her eye asked, "So what were you boys discussing?"

They looked at each other and responded simultaneously, "Mystique."

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Rogue finally picked the Mexican Grill, ordering a couple of tacos, and a quesadilla with a coke. She took her tray, sat, and began munching on the tacos. Taking a bite, she focused on the man across the way from her. He sat at a table, feet propped, staring. And she believed he was watching her. Even as hungry as she was, she was unable to enjoy the savory food so focused she was on him. Rogue shook her head. _I__'__m __being __silly. __He __could __be __watching __anyone. __He __could __be __asleep. __He__'__s __wearing __reflective __sunglasses. __How __would __I __know?_

Rogue considered again that she was paranoid, but couldn't help the feeling. It had kept her alive while on the streets. Her instinct saved her repeatedly. There was only one time she let her guard down, and was taken advantage of… Rogue quickly changed her train of thought. She searched the man's face, examining his mirrored sunglasses, shaggy brown hair, and …

_I know him!_

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_He had some explaining to do._

Their plates were empty. Conversation stalled. Coffee pot dry. No time like the present.

Charles finally spoke up, "I believe it's time."

Suddenly an ear-splitting whistle startled them all. Logan jumped up, knocking his chair over, unsheathing his claws in one swift motion.

"What the..?"

Ororo laughed softly, placing her hand on his forearm, "It's the teapot, Guard-dog" she patted his arm, "Down, boy."

Logan growled, but retracted his claws, propping up his chair, returned to his seat.

Charles watched with a bemused expression.

"What?" Logan menaced, scowling.

"Oh. Nothing," even as he began to laugh.

"Freaking teapot. Scared the beejabbers outta me."

Ororo walked in holding a tray, "Did you just say 'beejabbers'?"

Logan only grimaced. Charles chuckled. Tension alleviated.

"You need to talk with adults more, Logan."

"Yeah, right. I get it. So funny," he continued glowering at them. "You wanted me to teach kids…"

Charles cleared his throat, "Let's go to my office, shall we?"

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Rogue finished her meal, tossed the trash, and headed for the man watching her. She had told herself repeatedly that she was being overly cautious, but the man had continued staring. _Time __to __get __this __over __with._ He sat leisurely, chewing a toothpick, almost lying in his chair with his booted feet propped up on another seat. Rogue walked right up to him, wondering the entire time if she was safe doing so.

"Hey! What's your problem, mister?"

The man to his credit did not move a muscle, only answering, "Ain't got one."

Rogue crossed her arms, "Yeah? That so? Then why are you staring at me?"

"It ain't against the law to stare."

Having enough time while eating to become angry, Rogue was now infuriated. She kicked the chair out from under his feet, causing them to slam to the floor and several eyes to look their way. The man stood, setting his toothpick on the table. Pulling himself up, she was eye to eye with herself in his reflective sunglasses.

"If you weren't so hot, I'd kick your as..." Rogue's hand cut off whatever else he'd been about to say as she slapped his face.

Rubbing his jaw, he grinned, exposing yellowing teeth.

"You've been following me!" Rogue accused.

"Naw, just staring, and staring is still legal." He eyed her from head to toe, lingering on her chest.

Rogue was disgusted. "Just leave me alone, jerk." She stepped away, and he moved in front of her.

"Hellcat, huh? Need a man to tame ya?" Her hand came up again, but this time he caught it. "Yeah I'm just the man you need for that sweet as…"

"Let her go."

Rogue and the man turned to the new player arriving at their position. The security officer reiterated, "Let her go."

The man released his grip on Rogue with a push, sending her backwards into another person's chest. She felt their hands steadied her, keeping her from falling, and smoothly helped her into a standing position again. The security guard asked Rogue, "You alright Ma'am?"

Rogue nodded. The officer dragged the man away, "Roy, every single week…"

Turning to the helper, she looked up, brushing hair from her eyes, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to…"

Her helper waved her off, revealing a dimpled smile, "I love when a woman falls for me, chérie."

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After refilling their cups with coffee and tea respectively, Logan and Ororo sat on the large leather couch of Xavier's study. Charles sighed deeply. He held the files in his lap. He knew what they said. He knew enough now, it was not everything, but it was enough. His eyes shot between Ororo and Logan, taking in her concerned expression and his weary one.

Ororo offered, "Maybe you should just start at the beginning."

Swallowing quickly, Charles felt the tension building, "Um…It was…" He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed the beads of sweat on his forehead.

Logan eyeballed Charles, "You're gonna have to relax, bub. It's just us. We ain't gonna judge. And it ain't like you're facing a firing squad, and besides they aren't as tough as they make themselves out to be."

Charles gave a cynical half-smile, "I just want to get this over with."

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"It was years ago, I met a woman, a mutant. She had an amazing gift, and I was fascinated, captivated, really. And we were..." Charles looked up to find Logan and Ororo listening, both wearing faces fit for poker.

Xavier smiled sadly, "I thought she felt the same way about things as I did…I was naïve, young. I did not know her…intentions. When it came to matters concerning mutants, we had a difference of opinions."

Charles stopped, frowning, a faraway look in his eyes, seemingly lost in the past.

Ororo leaned forward, "Charles?"

He shook his head, "Ah, yes, where was I? Oh, yes. I won't say I was perfect. I made some bad choices. Well, until recently, I never really gave that time of life much thought. I thought it was over, finished, but I did not know I would see her again. That is why I sent Logan back to Mississippi – to find the truth."

He leaned forward in his chair, gripping the files, as if to stress his point, "You see, I had to know. I could not live with myself if I did not act upon it. I cannot believe she would not tell me."

Confused, Logan asked, "What exactly are you saying, Chuck? Who is this woman?"

"It's Destiny."

"What did she not tell you, Charles?"

"She never told me she had a daughter." His voice a mere whisper, Charles looked away, tears forming in his eyes.

Logan stood, gritting his words as he put it together, "_That_ girl? The one who almost took us out?"

Ororo's hand went to her heart, understanding it all now. She stood going to the Professor's side, touching his sleeve, she asked, "Are you saying she's your …"

Charles covered her hand with his, looking into her bright sapphire eyes as a tear fell from his own, he whispered, "I believe so, yes."

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**Translations: **

**chérie : dear**

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><p><strong>Thank you to TrickyBusiness, Wolf Skater, and roguelover321 for your reviews. You motivate me everyday!<strong>


	13. Risk

**Risk**

"She's your _daughter?!_" growled Logan, "Are you freaking kidding us? She tried to kill Ororo and the Elf! Scott was injured. Half-pint is still bruised. She can't even sit without groaning. _Your daughter_ took out a third of this team. She_ would _have killed us all!" He put his mug on the coffee table, and quickly stood, pacing. He ran his hand through his disheveled mahogany hair, then asked accusingly, "Did _you_ know?"

Charles hung his head, "Did I know what? That she is my daughter. No, I didn't know who she was. How could I? Irene never told me. I was caught unaware, as we all are," his gaze turned to Ororo, with her hand still on his arm, her hand in his own, "How was I supposed to know she was mine?! What am I to think? I have a daughter…She's fifteen. I never knew…A daughter I've never met. I'm still overwhelmed." His emotions threatened to engulf him. The pain, the hurt of never knowing his own flesh and blood burned his eyes; as he tried to hold back the tears dangerously close to overflow.

Charles cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure, eyeing the files in his lap, "I had to send Logan for more information." Xavier looked back at Logan, "I explained to you…"

"You told me that we needed more information about her past because of Mystique's involvement. I thought you knew more about her birth, maybe her powers, but I didn't think this."

"I am sorry. But you just returned with the files, the missing information. Now, I've read the files, and while there are some missing items, there is enough here. One of the files you took lists her birth mother as Irene, Destiny," his voice broke, revealing his deep grief, "and I never knew…"

Ororo withdrew her hand, leaving Charles cold, missing her touch. "You're listed as the father?" Her bright blue eyes shimmered with her own tears.

"No. Clearly this was something she wanted to keep from me, to hurt me."

"So you might not be her father?" Ororo rocked back on her heels. It was simply too much to take all at once. She absently massaged the bandage on her right wrist. She swiftly stood, walking to the windows, and stared out at the mansion's perfectly manicured property. Outside was maintained in proper order, pristine upkeep, paradisiacal beauty – a complete contrast to what was happening inside the study, and inside her hammering heart.

"I believe I am. Her power along with my own…from what I can determine the girl's power is _limitless_. The time frame fits. According to her birth date and the day Irene disappeared…" swallowing hard, Charles was not able to not finish.

Logan stopped pacing, halting across the room from the Professor. He pointed his finger, snarling brusquely, "This changes nothing! We discussed this, Chuck, after we left. It doesn't matter. She is still a threat. You agreed to all of it!"

"Everything has changed, Logan. It has to."

"No, it can't. We don't know…"

Charles held his hand up. He needed to explain to Logan, to Ororo. Things _had_ to be different.

"You're right. We don't know. I don't know what all of this means. But we can work through it, together. We need her with us. She cannot be corrupted by Mystique. She means everything. We don't know what she has been told. We are in the dark, and she very well may be. We need to find the truth." More information was required before he could know for sure, and he intended on getting his answers.

"I'm going back, aren't I?" Logan asked, half questioning, half offering.

"Yes, old friend, if you will," Xavier barely managed, even as his shoulders shook.

Ororo stood shocked, her hand over her heart, still staring out at the splendid estate, murmured almost to herself, "Why?"

As the mistakes of the past finally finding their roost, he began to openly weep, tears spilling over, Charles whispered,

"Because she is my daughter."

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Mystique angrily strummed her nails on the wood grain of the armrest. She shifted in the hard chair, attempting to gain some comfort. _How dare he keep _me_ waiting? Rogue is getting further from my grasp and any trail is getting colder!_ Mystique stood and stomped to the windows. From his building downtown, there was a spectacular view of the skyline, the entire cityscape, and it even had a view of the nearby town of Bayville. She looked at the small building, near the horizon that she recognized as the high school. Narrowing her citrine eyes, Mystique wondered how many times he stood there, watching her, spying on her.

Mystique scoffed. She was no fool. She _knew_ he was spying on her. He always seemed to know her every move before she made it, but this time would be different. He had lost his edge, faltered, had shown his hand. It was hers for the taking, and she played for keeps. Now was her time, not this aged fool with ridiculous notions of loyalty to his long time friend. She held her fist in front of her, _it's all within my grasp_. _If only I could find Rogue!_ That brat was costing her a victory, and Mystique was determined to take the toll out on her. Mystique slammed her fist onto the window sill.

"And just what has my window done to upset you?"

Mystique turned slowly to face him, not bothering with a counterfeit smile. There was nothing pleasurable about the visit, it was all business.

He sat behind his imposing desk, motioning for her to sit. When she did, he greeted, "Mystique."

She returned, "Magneto."

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Rogue took another sip of her coke, while eyeing her companion. He was dressed casually in dark jeans, a black t-shirt, and a navy trucker cap pulled low over his brow. He had offered to buy her a drink, claiming it was only gentlemanly after she 'fell' into his arms. She had accepted cautiously, walking with him to the Chinese restaurant while he purchased her coke, and his lunch. Then he'd asked her to stay for lunch. Rogue figured it was the least she could do since she'd nearly knocked him off his feet.

He chewed as he appeared to look over the tables. Never turning his head, he swallowed and smiled amusingly, "What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

Rogue raised a brow at his question. _Is he _flirting_?_ She cleared her throat, taking another sip. She followed his gaze over the mall patrons, "I was wondering what you were looking at? What's so interesting?"

He adjusted his dark glasses, tilting his head towards her, "I've only been watching you." He gave a dimpled smile and wagged his eyebrows, "Now, what were you really thinking?"

Rogue bit her lip, and looked down at the table. _Seriously Rogue, lie better!_ _What was I suppose to say? Oh, I'm wondering what color those eyes are behind those glasses?_ She tucked a wisp of ivory behind her ear, looked straight at him, "I was really thinking about getting out of here. I'm tired. I just got to town, was up all night driving, and now I'd like to get a hotel room."

Gambit pushed his lunch to the side, and leaned in suggestively, "Well, why didn't you say so chérie? We can go the hotel across the street." At her blush, he added, "I'm only joking. But I wouldn't mind making sure you get there safely. After what happened with _Roy…_" he left off, gesturing with his right hand. Under the table his fist began to glow, Gambit gritted his teeth, working hard to stop the energy flow before he blew up the table. It would not do to scare her off when they seemed to making progress. He could tell when she walked him to the Chinese lunch counter, she was wary. _She probably thought I would drug her drink._ Gambit then mentally slapped himself for _not_ thinking of it.

He sighed, struck a blasé posture, and leaned back in his chair. His pounding heart belied his relaxed air. He had been watching the entire incident with Roy, and everything was fine until the man grabbed her. Gambit had rushed over to take the man's arm off his body when security intervened, saving him from exposure, only to have her tumble into his arms. He desperately wanted to get her outside of the mall, alone so he could wrap up this excruciating job. He pulled his tray back, and began eating the sweet orange chicken again.

A bite of the tangy chicken was stopped midway to his mouth by her remark, "I'm fine on my own."

He put his fork down, and crossed his arms on the table, arching a brow, "I've no doubt about that." _You've handed me my butt enough within the last twenty-four hours…_ Gambit continued eating, hoping she would change her mind, or he could change it for her.

Rogue hesitated, unsure. She did not trust easily, but there was something about him – beyond his preposterous French accent. She _wanted _to believe him, he seemed like such a nice guy. Of course, she had been played before. She argued with herself, but in the end, Rogue shook her head, "I'm gonna go."

Gambit had been watching her intently from the corner of his eye, even as he faced the nearby stores. He was fascinated by her eyes. Every emotion, thought, belief – all of it – flashed briefly within her wide emerald irises. There was more than the bright greens however, her eyes held flecks of hazel – the same color he liked his coffee, hues of blue – reflecting skies on sunny days filled with fluffy white clouds, and hints of gray – reminding him of rainstorms and roaring fires. He could feel the draw of her hypnotic gaze, almost physically. Without realizing, he had turned to fully face her, fighting the battle, but losing himself within her eyes. Before he could stop himself, he protested, "Please, don't."

Rogue stared him, trying to decide. She had watched him slowly turn from people-watching to fix his eyes on her. It had been intense, even with his sunglasses. She resisted a shiver. She took a long drink of her coke, empting the cup.

He watched her trying to make up her mind. Each feeling revealed for an instant, only in her eyes, then hidden before shown on her face. He swallowed hard as her eyes gave the tiniest trace of narrowing, crinkling at the edges. She finished her drink. He waited, without breathing.

She set the cup down, as she made her decision. One last warning resounded in her mind. She looked at him seriously. She would not be played again. "Fine, you can walk me to the hotel."

Gambit released his breath slowly. He had been in poker games less agonizing and fervid. Then, for a moment he considered what a game would be like with her. He smiled enticed by the idea. Suddenly it didn't matter how long this job lasted, he only wanted more time with her, not following or chasing; but with her. He wanted more – more time listening to her soft southern cadence, more time becoming lost in her brilliant emerald irises, and hopefully one time holding her in his arms. He quickly finished his drink, stood, and held his hand out for her, "Shall we?"

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"Charles, I think this is a bad idea." Ororo's sapphire eyes pleaded with Xavier's.

Ororo and Logan had returned to their seats on the couch as Charles explained the next steps.

"I don't know. I think we need to hear it from the horse's mouth." Logan ran his hands through his hair, in an effort to not demolish any furniture. His inner wolverine was howling with apprehension, feeding on the room's tension, needing to lash out at something, anything.

Charles shuffled the folders in his lap, "These files only contain information from Brandon. When I contacted the offices, only Jackson was willing to send anything – for a price. Their files arrived last night." He moved to his normally tidy, now unkempt desk, covered with the faxed papers. Ororo stood, going to the desk, with Logan trailing. "The information is contradictory. Each school has her listed with different names, different birth dates. Even the previous school records are false. Brandon has her moving from Tennessee. Jackson's records show her from Alabama."

Ororo sifted through the papers on his large desk, "How ever did you figure out where she was?"

"Real estate records. Every time they move, Irene kept her name, but her daughter gets a new one. It's clear she's been hiding her…" Charles trailed off, the betrayal wounding him anew. He cleared his throat, "Each house is under a corporate name, but I traced them to one source. Mystique. She's been involved from the very beginning of this girl's life." A wave of jealously rose up suddenly engulfing him. _She was there when I was not._

Ororo snatched up a piece of paper from the messy pile, "It says here she was only five when she went to school in Jackson," looking to Charles, "Where was she before?"

"From what I've managed to piece together, I know she was in Natchez as well. However, I'm not sure when."

Logan picked up another page, "McKena Destiney Jordan."

Ororo looked to her paper, "Sydney Rebecca Morgan."

Each turned to the Professor. "And now apparently, Rachelle Taylor Tremblay." Returning the paper to his desk, Charles sighed, "I know. The birth certificates are the same."

Logan slumped into the chair facing the desk, "It's probably the same for Natchez then, Chuck."

Ororo sat tentatively in the chair nearest to Xavier, "What is the child's real name?"

Charles rubbed his chin, "I don't know."

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"That's all?" Mystique asked surprised.

"Yes, that will be all."

"You demanded I return for some side show boy in Texas? I need to return to Mississippi!"

Magneto leaned back into the heavy leather wing chair, bringing his fingertips together and touched them to his chin. "Why is that? Is something wrong? Did you not recruit the girl?"

Mystique quickly backpedaled, "No, just some loose ends."

"Then it can wait." He replied calmly.

Mystique stood, shouting, "No! I have to go back."

Instantly, the room began to shake, small metal objects encircled her. "This room, while it has all the appearances of normality, is in fact mostly metal. The entire building is steel." Magneto stood, walking around to the front of his desk to sit on an edge. He held up his hands causing paper clips to dance in the air. Making a fist, the paperclips melded into a small ball. Opening his hand, the ball dropped into his palm. "I believe you have forgotten our arrangement." He glanced up at Mystique, who stood still while the objects circled her. "I do not wish to destroy my building on the likes of you." With a wave of his hand, the objects returned to their places, except for the small ball of merged paperclips. He tossed it to Mystique.

Startled, Mystique shakily caught the small sphere. She glanced at the ball, then to Magneto.

"I think you've forgotten your place, Mystique."

She swallowed her rage. She could argue her case, but realized it was wasted on him. She answered to him…for now. She did not bother responding.

"Go to Texas. Recruit your new team member." Magneto stood, walking back to his broad chair, and sat.

Mystique turned, and walked to the door. Her hand on the doorknob, he stopped her.

"Oh, and feel free to leave in the morning. I'm sure you're tired from your flight."

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Rogue looked at the tall man walking next to her. There was something familiar about him, but she couldn't place it. They had left the mall and were walking through the surrounding parking lot. His long legs were eating up the pavement, and she struggled to keep the pace. She studied his profile. He had a straight nose, strong cheekbones, angular jaw, with a soul patch and small goatee on his round chin. She thought for the most part he was handsome.

"Yeah."

He glanced down at her, "What was that?"

Realizing she had said her thought aloud, she blushed, "Nothing."

He grinned knowingly, "Sure."

Gambit had no idea what he was doing. He wasn't supposed to be eating lunch with her, much less talking to her. He'd only spoken with her at the Amtrak station to hear her voice, but once, he found was not enough. He was striding through the parking lot, without even thinking of where he was heading. Part of him wanted to run, while the other longed to stay by her side. Both parts seemed to have forgotten his job entirely. He could not help himself. She was a drug, and he needed more.

"Yeah."

Pulled from his thoughts by her soft affirmative, he wondered if she'd been thinking the same thoughts. When she answered, "Nothing," he wondered if he was losing his mind. He had a plan of action in nabbing her, but it all went down the tube at the food court. He kicked himself mentally. He abruptly stopped, causing her to speed right past him. She turned and walked back, "What did you stop for?"

Gambit smiled awkwardly, and said the only thing he could think of, "Um…where's your car?"

_OH crap! I did say I had a car…_ Rogue chewed her bottom lip. _I know I lie better than this – what's wrong with me?_ She shadowed her eyes from the sun behind him, and glanced up, "I left it at the hotel." Then she smiled slyly, "You did say you'd walk me to the hotel."

Gambit laughed. _She_ is_ spunky!_ "You're right. I did. Lead the way." They continued towards the highway separating the shopping center from the hotel, only at a slower pace. She asked him a couple questions about his travels, which he answered as honestly as possible without actually telling her about himself. Then they fell into a relaxed conversation about the town neither had ever been to before.

When they approached the highway, Gambit took her hand, leading her, as they ran across the road. He did not let it go until they arrived at the doors to the small hotel. He had even forgotten he was still holding her hand.

"Do you want me to walk you to your door?"

It was her turn to laugh then, "No, I'll get me to my room, on my own. Thank you."

Gambit hesitated, looking down at his feet, playing the moment for all it was worth. As a 'player', he knew the right role for her. "Do …you think…I could see you tomorrow?" He almost laughed at his performance. _I really deserve an award._ He had played this 'shy' part many times, and found the ladies enjoyed it. He imagined this girl would love the character as well.

Rogue looked down at her gloved hands. Her thick dark lashes fluttered against her cheeks. Gambit took a sharp breath as his mind wandered thinking what those butterfly kisses would feel like against his own skin. Rogue tilted her head up, gazing through those lashes, her lips forming a slight pout. Her face was full of innocence, with a hint of vixen. _If she starts chewing her bottom lip…I'm done… _ Gambit felt himself sinking, bending towards her, closing his eyes, imagining her lips against his own…

"I guess it'll be alright."

Gambit snapped out of his daydream to find her staring oddly at him, a quizzical expression on her face. _Oh for the love of…_ He lifted her hand, kissing the back, "Tomorrow then. At two?"

Rogue pulled her hand from against his lips, and smiled, "Sounds good."

She made for the doors, until he touched her shoulder. She glanced back, with a confused smile, "What?"

He smiled sensually, "You never told me your name."

She smirked, "That's right."

"Well?" Gambit tapped his foot in feigned impatience.

Rogue laughed, bringing her hand to her mouth, her fingers lightly touching her lips, "Jane."

_She's going to be the death of me…_Gambit arched a brow, "As in 'Doe'?"

She turned back to the doors, throwing over her shoulder, "As in that's all you get to _know…_" With her hand on the handle, she cast a glance back, "for now."

"You can call me Jon!" he called after her.

From behind the double glass doors, she laughed again. He was beginning to love that sound. He watched as she went to the counter for a room before he walked away. Everything was set in motion. He turned back to the train station where he'd left his stolen car. Soon, he found himself whistling, thinking of the crimson hair beauty with the milky strands. However, as he got to the car, and unlocked it, he stopped. Gambit had to wonder, _who is playing who?_

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Logan left the study to sleep or shred things, before he left again for Natchez. It left Ororo alone with Charles.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" Ororo took his left hand between her own.

"No. I'm alright." The Professor turned to face her. He offered a small smile, "I'm sure you'd like some time for yourself. This," he gestured to his desk, covered with old and new files, papers scattered, claiming every available space, "is a lot to absorb."

Ororo stood, but Charles held her hand, "Thank you."

She leaned down, cupped his face with her free hand, "For you, anything." Then she turned away, pulling her hand from his, and left him alone.

Charles leaned his head back, closing his eyes, and took a long deep breath. He moved behind his desk, opened a drawer, and withdrew a small wooden box. He ran his fingers across the intricate carving. The lettering engraved in the top was Japanese, meaning "destiny". She had given him the box years ago. It and the key had stayed with him, but he had never opened it. Reaching into the middle desk drawer, Charles withdrew the key, and unlocked the box.

He placed the small chest in the middle of the files, papers on his desk. Then he picked up the phone, and dialed. It rang once.

"Hello?"

"Irene, it's Charles."

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Gambit pulled the stolen car into the parking lot next door to the hotel. He snagged his bag from the back, thinking he'd have to get another car soon. Hot cars were only good for a limited time, like any good blue light special. He ambled across the lot, and through the double glass doors.

"Good afternoon, sir, can I help you?"

"Why yes, I'd like a room."

"Of course, I would be happy to help you with that today," replied the hotel clerk.

Gambit leaned over the counter conspiratorially, "Actually I was hoping you could do me a favor." He looked around like a nervous suitor, then added, "My girlfriend just checked in a while ago, and I was hoping…"

"Uh, sir I can't give you a room key or even the number."

Gambit waved his hand, "No, that's not it. I just want to surprise her…by being on the same floor. That's not against some rules, is it?"

The apprehensive clerk fidgeted with his tie, then acquiesced, "I guess not." Gambit's eyes lit up. "But I still can't give you her room number."

Gambit smiled satisfied, "Oh, mon ami, I will find her."

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Once Gambit got to his third floor room, he removed the ugly trucker cap and the inane black sunglasses, throwing them on the table in the corner. He hated wearing the shades all the time, but people tended to make a fuss over his unusual eyes. He laid back on the bed and sighed, rubbing his unshaven face. _This was not the plan._ In fact, this was so far from the plan Gambit considered making a new plan entirely, which was something he never did – unless the police had somehow become involved.

He needed to check in with the client, inform him of what was happening, but the bed was so comfortable after all that time in that car, which even though it was roomy, he'd begun to feel like a human pretzel. Gambit stretched his arms up, tucking his hands under his head. He closed his eyes for just a moment, taking a small break before he called the old man and received the predictable butt chomping.

Gambit woke up hours later only because he was cold. The room was totally dark; he opened the curtains finding the sun hanging much lower in the sky. He sat up, taking a breath to remember where he was, then he headed for the bathroom. Gambit splashed some water on his face, quickly drying it with a towel. He considered again calling the client, but decided his stomach needed some attention first. He grabbed the ice bucket and headed for the ice machine.

As he was waiting for his bucket to fill up, Gambit looked over the choices in the vending machine. He then swiftly chose to find something outside of the hotel, and that's when he heard it.

"Jon?"

Gambit turned to the voice, not because he recognized the name, but because he knew her voice, "Ah, Jane. It's good to see yo…," his words dying on his lips as he saw her fully.

The girl he only knew as "Jane" stood barefoot, in a white t-shirt, and black shorts. They weren't the tiniest shorts he'd ever seen on a woman, in fact, he'd seen women in more states of undress. But seeing all her alabaster skin exposed, Gambit lost all coherent thought.

"What are you doing here?"

Gambit could only stare. He had seen his share of beautiful women, but there was something about this girl, face freshly washed, wearing shorts and a tee that had him completely lost.

She had not expected to run into anyone late in the hallway, and had not bothered with gloves. Rogue approached and touched his sleeve with her bare hand, "Are you alright?"

Gambit looked down into her concerned face, suddenly recalling the French and English language, replied, "Oui, I am fine." He reached for her arm, but she snatched her hand away, taking several steps back. "Chérie, I do not bite – unless you ask me to," he added smiling saucily.

Rogue rubbed her arm, "Why are you here?"

Gambit felt a bit dim holding up his ice bucket, "To get ice, non?"

He saw her visibly relax at that. "I told you I was in town on business. I just happened to be at the same hotel. Nothing more chérie." He noticed then she had come to the ice machine empty handed. "But I should ask, why you are here? No bucket in your room?"

She smirked back at him, "I came for some food from the vending machine."

Gambit found that he _liked_ her sassing him. "But not a bucket full?"

Rogue laughed at the thought. "No, not yet at least."

Gambit cajoled her into an easy conversation regarding their favorite foods and favorite times to eat said foods. He tickled her with his stories about breakfast as a midnight snack and definitely in bed. Rogue charmed him with her passion for eating dessert first, every time. Finally, she made a purchase from the machine, and he began to yawn.

Rogue commented, "You need some sleep. I should go."

Gambit quickly asked, "Will you still meet me tomorrow?"

"I don't want to interfere with your work. I mean, you're here on business, right?" she tucked an auburn strand behind her ear.

"Well, yes, but it won't." Gambit observed her puzzled expression, "Interfere, I mean. I'll be done before then."

She smiled shyly, "Ok, tomorrow then." Rogue turned and walked back down the hall to her room.

Gambit was relieved she had agreed. For a minute, he thought she was going to change her mind. He looked down at the half melted bucket of ice in his hands. He poured out the water, and added fresh ice before returning to his room. He knew now he _had_ to call his client. Nothing was sitting right about this job. He needed some answers.

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He knew it was later on the east coast, but Gambit didn't want to wait until morning for answers. He wanted them now, or else he was done. The phone rang a couple of times before his client answered.

"Gambit, do you have her?"

"Oui, within my reach."

"Excellent. When should I expect your return?"

"That's just it. I had a few questions."

"You informed me that you never asked questions," he responded sounding annoyed.

"Normally, I don't, but this girl is different." Gambit was unsure how to explain his new position to the man. _Now that I've met her I don't want to kidnap her?_

"I double your fee."

Gambit shook his head, "It's not about the mone…Did you say double? No, I mean. Why this girl? Why her?"

"Yes, I said double," the man on the other end of the phone sighed deeply, "Gambit, I hired you because I was hoping to avoid these questions."

"You told me she was dangerous."

"She is."

There was no way Gambit was telling the man that he'd spoken with the girl. "I've watched her for some time now, and she's not a danger. Give me one good reason."

"Gambit, I've paid good money. That's reason enough. I'll triple your fee."

Gambit's eyes widened. _Now I know he's hiding something._ "Why do you want her?"

The man sounded weary, sighing again, "She's a threat to me. I've told you, I want her. That's all you need to know."

Gambit hesitated, and the man took a different approach. "I've been patient with you Gambit, but my patience is now running thin. If that's not enough money, I could send Sabertooth to extract her. Of course, he won't be so gentle. She may not make it back alive."

"She's no threat to you." Gambit hissed.

"Just do the job I paid you handsomely for!" his client yelled.

"Give me one good reason!" Gambit yelled back.

"Young man, I don't take kindly to insubordination!"

"If you want her, you'll tell me what I want to know patron homme or else I leave without telling you anything."

"You dare to threaten me?" he shouted into the phone.

"If you want her bad enough, oui!"

"I paid you to not ask questions."

"It ain't enough no more."

"Four times your fee!" he pleaded with Gambit.

"Spit it out or I'm leaving right now. Are you planning to hurt her?" Gambit shouted into his phone, strangling the receiver.

"NO! I would never hurt her. She means everything," he seemed to deflate.

"Then why?"

"Because…" he trailed off.

Gambit interrupted, "Why is she so important?! Who's she to you anyway, Magneto?!"

"Because she's my daughter."

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	14. Switch

**Switch**

Logan slammed his bedroom door, releasing his claws in one swift motion. He was breathing hard, having nothing to do with exertion. He was frustrated, angry, annoyed, tired, angry, troubled, and angry. Logan growled as his inner wolverine snarled, slashing and tearing at the locked cage. Chuck had told them that he felt betrayed by Irene's actions, hiding their daughter from him all these years. _He feels betrayed? I feel betrayed!_ Logan paced his long room, to the window, to the door, and back again. His room had a minimalist look, not because of Logan's preferences but due to his tendency towards destruction.

Logan wanted to destroy something, anything. He wanted to shove his fist through the wall, and shred the furniture. His temper roared as he picked up a chair, only to put it right back down. Chuck would be upset having to replace his furniture again so soon. Logan snarled, _I need to tear into something!_ He took several deep breaths trying to relax, but his wolverine hissed and thrashed from within the confines. To the window, to the door, and back again.

Xavier explained things had to change – the girl had to be recruited. They had to try again. _That girl is a threat!_ Logan had argued they needed to wait, err on the side of caution, and get more information. Much to the surprise of everyone, the Wolverine, who rushes headlong into deadly situations, had suggested waiting. Logan recommended talking with Irene, finding the truth from the source, before rushing impetuously to the conclusion of fatherhood. Possibly shocked, Charles had agreed with him, and planned to call his lost paramour immediately. Even Logan was surprised that he ended up being the voice of reason. _It's a sad day when I'm the model of prudence. _However, it didn't staid his anger. Charles had fed him half-truths to get him back to Mississippi, and acquire those files in order to determine the girl's parents.

Logically Logan could argue that Xavier did what was necessary to get the truth. He could even agree with the Professor's tactics, but to Logan the conclusion remained the same. Chuck simply did not trust Logan with the truth – whether the girl was his daughter or not, whether Logan would have understood or not. Chuck had not even given Logan the courtesy, the benefit of doubt. Xavier assumed it would elicit a particular response, and Logan never liked disappointing people. His wolverine howled clawing at the bars, forcing Logan to face the truth: he was hurt. Charles did not trust him, while he had trusted Charles with so much. _Does he really think so little of me?_ Logan sank onto his bed, which barely moved, as it was specially made to withstand Logan's weight with his adamantium skeleton.

He understood Xavier's reasons. Logan considered he might have done the same in the man's place. He understood the meaning of family, the desire for a relationship, the _need_ _to be connected_, the longing for belonging, and the yearning for a home. If anyone could understand Chuck… _it would be me. _Running his hands down his face, his wolverine gave a pained, mournful cry, expressing his pain as well. Logan growled, "It's not like _I'm some animal_ who doesn't want a family!" Hands on his knees, he closed his eyes, before falling back onto his mattress. _But I am an animal: with no family, no past, no home. I __**want**__ those things, but all I'm good for is fighting, slicing and dicing. I'm a freaking kitchen appliance._

Logan sat up, and looked down at the palms of his hands, claws shadowing his fingers. _Not an animal._ He examined the lines of his palms, ignoring the claws. He looked over every crease and wrinkle within the flesh. _I'm an animal... _the wolverine bellowed, balefully. Logan sighed. He wasn't supposed to be thinking about these things, and he certainly didn't want to be thinking about his _feelings_. Logan was supposed to getting some much needed sleep before heading back south to Natchez for even more red tape shredding. _Screw that! _He stood, pacing to the window, to the door, and back again.

Logan realized that Charles wasn't thinking clearly. He was not factoring Mystique into the equation. They knew full well she was involved, yet Chuck could only think about his loss, his supposed daughter, and himself. But Logan could see the entire playing field, the players, and _that_ _girl_ was not on their team. And while he wasn't used to playing on a team, Logan knew how to protect one. Charles had asked him to teach the students how to protect themselves, to fight, to survive.

Logan growled, "Screw that girl – McKena…Sydney – whoever she is!" gritting his teeth, "and screw Chuck. I've got a job to do." Pacing back towards the door, Logan grabbed the knob. He either needed a bottle of bourbon or to maim something in the danger room, he wasn't sure which…but of one thing he was certain…

_I may be an animal, but I'm the animal who'll protect these kids!_

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Ororo leaned back against the heavy oak door. She laid her hand over her pounding heart. She took several deep cleansing breaths, willing herself to calm. _Why did I do that?_ She was so confused, her emotions in turmoil. Ororo replayed it in her mind, blushing. She had touched his face, promising him anything. _What was I thinking? _She was completely embarrassed, making a fool of herself. _Why?_ She fanned her face. _Why's it so hot in here? _

Out of nowhere, Ororo had been overcome with the urge to touch him, to comfort him. She felt her forehead. _Perhpas I'm coming down with something?_ Her chest felt tight. She closed her eyes, and pressed her head back against the door. She had acted so brazenly towards the man she considered her friend, her mentor. She respected him, but something was different, new; and she couldn't put her finger on it.

She pushed herself away from the study door, and walked aimlessly down the hall. She found the closest seat, and sank onto the brocade settee. Ororo briefly thought of consulting a doctor. _Perhaps a heart attack… _Ororo took a deep breath, even as her heart returned to a normal rhythm. She felt hurt and confused, but it didn't make any sense. When he'd spoken the words 'I'm her father', she felt an ache inside, like a shot through her heart. The words had gone through her like ice, freezing her throughout. Ororo had wanted to cry, but her reaction baffled her. It was unlike anything she had known. It was as if she were on a roller coaster when she hadn't purchased a ticket.

This was her friend, the man who recruited her into the X-men. Ororo was supposed to show support, encouragement – help him to find the truth. But instead, she could only ask, 'why?' She had always felt loyal to the Professor, admired him greatly, and now she was upset and hurt because he had a daughter. _What is wrong with me?_ Ororo dropped her head into her hands, understanding escaping her.

Her racing thoughts were interrupted by the chiming of the grandfather clock in the foyer. She checked her watch. _Is it two already?_ Ororo combed her fingers through her straight ivory locks. Time had seemed to stand still inside the study, yet time had escaped them all. The teens would be back from school soon, and she was leading their training session. She stood and headed for where she knew the men kept a hidden stash, safe from the hands of the kids.

_If I am going to make it through the rest of today, I'll need something stronger than tea._

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Charles slowly hung up his phone, dejected. _That could have gone better._ He had hoped Irene would be more cooperative, more receptive. Sadly, it had not been the case. At first, Irene had claimed she didn't know who he was, but then admitted differently. She had been displeased with his call, demanding justification. And in the end, she had refused to tell him anything beyond how miserable he had made her.

Charles slumped into his chair, and ran his hand over his face. He had expected, even anticipated her anger, but he had hoped she would confess the truth, show him compassion. Charles realized nothing had really changed. He never even got to ask about the girl, his daughter.

Charles reflected on Logan's reaction at the news. He had been surprised by Logan's frustration, but agreed with his plan of action. Charles had been jumping to conclusions, and did indeed need to hear directly from Irene. He smiled to himself, _Wolverine, voice of reason, who would have thought?_ Logan had been right about that, but wrong in another way. Charles knew things were different now, and he only needed to make Logan understand why. _He is not unreasonable._ And he owed his old friend an apology. Charles winced as he thought of the half-truths he told Logan in order to gain the necessary files and information. He only had one excuse, one he considered good: he had been scared.

Of course, Charles could have told the truth, and perhaps Logan would have understood, maybe even sympathized. _But we had already decided about her…_ Charles didn't finish the thought as he closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. It had been a chance he was unwilling to take, especially with _her_ on the line.

Charles moved to the fireplace, watching the flames lap at the logs. He softly touched his face where Ororo had cupped his jaw. If he closed his eyes, he imagined the warm touch of her hand along with the gentle scent of spring rain. He wondered at her words, 'for you, anything.' She seemed so tender and in that moment he had felt cherished. _You're being an old fool, Xavier._ Charles knew he was imagining more to her actions, but he couldn't stop himself. He had admired her for a long time, but dared not act upon his feelings. He understood she only saw him as her teacher and mentor, and nothing more. _Respect is not love…but it is all this fool shall get…_

Resigned, Charles moved back to his desk, and gathered the papers back into the folders, placing them in his lap. He picked up the red cherry box, turned the key, locking it and set it atop the folders. He made his way to the door, and heard the two low bells from the foyer. The students would be there soon, and his home filled with laughter and talking again – mainly because Logan was not leading training today. He found himself smiling again…at the thought that one day his daughter would be among those very students.

Charles exited his office, heading for the elevator. He needed to see Logan, to apologize and to make him understand.

_And I need to get some answers…personally._

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Jean knew that she should wait by his car, but she lingered in the hall waiting for the chance to speak with him privately. Peeking around the corner, she found Paul was still chatting with Scott. She expelled a small huff, blowing her red tresses from her face. _Does Paul ever shut up? _Jean wanted to discuss his and Kurt's dream before they got to the institute. She wanted to know more about the dream, and why the girl clouded their dreams. Also, she wanted to know what Scott planned to tell the Professor. _But at this rate, we'll still be here in the morning when school starts._

Jean tilted her head as she watched Scott. His face was lit with a mischievous grin which grew wider as Paul continued his story. Suddenly, Scott threw his head back and laughed, loud and unabashed. Scott appeared so…relaxed_._ Jean stood frozen, amazed. She rarely saw Scott smile, much less laughing. And relaxed? She wasn't sure the word was even in his vocabulary. She knew Scott as the X-men team leader and her friend, but never saw him so at ease. Jean licked her lips. Something was different, she noticed. She had never considered Scott to be…attractive before, and now she was seeing him in a whole new light. Scott was the stern one, the leader, a caring friend, but not handsome. He was always so serious, so responsible, and so in charge. Yet, something was different, and she couldn't imagine what had changed.

Unconsciously, Jean leaned forward as she watched the boys laughing together, sharing the joke. Scott doubled over as he roared with laughter. Jean found herself lost in his carefree expression. Idly she wondered why he didn't behave the same way away from school. Scott clapped his hand on Paul's shoulder, begging for the story's end, but Paul drew out the tale, exaggerating for the utmost hilarity. Scott began to wheeze, chuckling even as his face reddened. Paul finished the yarn and burst into laughter. Jean smiled to herself, almost as if she were in on the joke. But she was pleased to glimpse another side of Scott, one that she found enticing.

"Hey babe, whatcha looking at?"

Jean jumped from being caught staring at Scott by Duncan.

She quickly turned, replying, "Nothing. I was just waiting for you."

"Cool. You ready for me to drive you home?" Duncan clearly was oblivious.

"Duncan, _I've_ been here waiting for fifteen minutes." Jean scowled. She was a tad agitated to be caught, but mostly because she was usually the one waiting for Duncan. Jean shook her head. Sometimes her boyfriend could be a real lummox.

"So…does that mean you're ready?" Jean rolled her eyes, and took his arm, leading him away from Scott and Paul, even as she cast a glance back as Scott smiled widely. She frowned to herself.

_Wonder why he never smiles at me that way?_

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Magneto walked to his large windows overlooking the city, clasped his hands behind his back, and stared out not really seeing anything. He had not meant to tell his hireling about his daughter. He only wanted her back, and his emotions had gotten away from him. Unfortunately he had shown his cards in doing so. _Emotions – such a human weakness… _And yet, he _felt_ for this daughter he had never met. He longed to see her returned, but told himself it was only because she was necessary to his future plans. He and Irene had planned for so long, and now was the time, then the girl disappeared. "Rogue," he tested the name aloud. Indeed, Irene had chosen a proper name for their daughter – one who deceives, a thief, mischief incarnate – and if her visions of the future were accurate, as usual, _his_ daughter would be change the world so desperately needed.

_She means everything._ Erik wondered if she was alright, safe with the Cajun thief he'd sent. Having never worked with Gambit, Erik was going by reputation alone. However, Erik smiled egotistically; his reputation would probably be enough for Gambit to do the job without harming her. "Rogue," he repeated. The key to everything. _His _daughter had outsmarted the professional thief, twice. She appeared to have a superior mind not unlike his own.

Erik felt his chest swell. _Pride? _He chuckled. _Yes, I'm proud._ He was proud of his girl. She would make a good addition to his team, which Mystique knew nothing about. Absently, Erik wondered how Irene had kept it from Mystique. He knew well of their so-called love affair, but he also knew who Irene always ran to when she needed help. _Me._

Fleetingly a frown marred his strong features as the past captured his thoughts. Erik rubbed his chin, returning to his desk, sitting stiffly in the large wing chair. He had never meant to fall for his best friend's love. And while it was cliché, it just happened. Among other things they had in common, their ideals matched concerning mutant kind. Irene had become frustrated with Charles, and sought comfort in the arms of Erik. He could not refuse her, and together they had built a future, unknown to his former friend.

When she had called about their daughter, Erik had taken care of everything so his daughter would never be in need. Of course, there were the twins, but they were useless. While their powers special, Wanda couldn't control them and Pietro just didn't want to control himself. _What a waste._ But they were not Rogue. She was more than hexes and speed. She could be anything. "Rogue," he whispered.

His daughter, Rogue was more than powerful. He had waited impatiently for her powers to manifest. Her power, according to Irene's vision, was limitless. Erik smiled arrogantly and relaxed into his chair. With her power, there was nothing to stop them.

_I will be king, and she a princess. We will rule the world._

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Mystique stared up at The Brotherhood of Bayville Boarding House. The boys would be home from school soon. _If they even went… _It was the last place she wanted to be, but she really wasn't being given a choice. She parked her black rental car around the side of the house, and rested her head against the steering wheel as she resisted the urge to cry. After all, she told herself, crying would solve nothing. _And I will never shed another tear for him. _Mystique allowed her shoulders to slump, dropped her hands from the wheel resting on the seat. She had fully intended on giving Magneto a piece of her mind, but had just stood there idiotically.

She was exhausted. Between following Rogue and then chasing after her, Mystique had barely slept. While a mutant, she was not invincible, which is probably the reason she had kept her mouth shut during the earlier meeting. Mystique was not stupid, but fighting him would have been. _It's too soon… _Expelling a long breath, she drooped back against the seat and tipped her head back against the headrest. _Nothing's going to plan._ It all seemed to be falling apart, all because of one girl. _Doesn't she understand that __**this**__ is all for her? I'm trying to protect her…_

Momentarily, she considered readjusting the game plan. It was always wise to have a plan B, but first she would need to talk with Irene. This was their undertaking, and Mystique would not make a move without her. She reached for the door handle, but stopped, looking back at the house. _I don't want to be here. _Mystique cranked the car, reversed from her spot, and turned the car towards the highway. She smiled scandalously, heading towards the city for a hotel.

_If Magneto's footing the bill, why not enjoy some five star service…and maybe some champagne?_

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Remy was still lying motionless on his bed after his phone call with Magneto. He stared at the popcorn ceiling of his hotel room, trying to corral his stampeding thoughts. _She's his daughter?_ He found it all so unbelievable. He wanted to ask the man how, but Remy was pretty sure he understood the concept. It certainly answered the question of payment. He had thought Magneto's compensation questionably exorbitant, but with this new information… _What wouldn't you pay for your flesh and blood?_ Remy had paid in blood enough for his own family, so he understood the sentiment.

Yet, here he was in the same hotel, just rooms away from the great Magneto's daughter who called herself 'Jane.' Remy could not help but smile at the thought of her. She was captivating. He was curious whether she had the power of charm, like himself. He sat up. _Why _didn't_ I charm her?_ His brow furrowed at the notion. He could have easily charmed her back in Jackson, and driven her straight home. But he hadn't even tried, and unable to answer why. _It's her eyes…_ The large emerald eyes had captivated him, completely. _So much for 'get in and out quick'…_ He clapped his forehead at the thought that perhaps she had purposely played him.

She had outwitted the great Gambit, not once, or twice, but many times over. Remy grimaced slightly. _No one could ever know…I'd be a laughing stock._ But part of him didn't mind, he had enjoyed the merry chase, and in fact had come to admire the girl. _She should be part of the guild, she'd fit right in…_ Of course, there were only a few ways into the guild: birth, adoption – like himself, or marriage. Remy knew for certain marriage was a trap with gold band shackles. Although young, Remy raised a brow to the idea of marriage to the crimson haired beauty. One thing he was absolutely sure of…

_A captive life with her would never be boring…_

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Rogue sat against the headboard, staring at the cell phone near the end of the bed. She felt as though she'd been staring at it for hours. She knew it wasn't going to ring or even vibrate. It was turned off, and the sim card was in her pocket. She wiggled her right foot, wagging her toe at the phone. She _knew_ she should call, but part of her didn't want the reminder. Right now, she could pretend to be normal, safe from her ability, safe in this room…safe from Mystique. Right now, she was free.

Rogue knew her friends would worry, having not heard from her in some time. She also knew they had probably called or sent messages, yet she just stared at the phone. She nudged it with her toe, as if expecting it to bite. Rogue tilted her head, weighing her options. She knew her time was limited, and reached for the phone.

Turning it over in her hands, she cracked the back, slid in the sim card, and replaced the battery. With a deep sigh, she turned the phone on. She chewed her lower lip waiting for all the useless functions to load. Finally the small screen lit up with the notice of two messages: one text, the other voice. The text was simply, "Call us." Rogue pushed the button to retrieve the voicemail. It rang twice, then the message began.

"Rogue, it's Aby. Ryder and I thought we should warn you. Misty was here looking for you. Call us when you can…and _be careful._"

Rogue gasped, as her heart began to race. _Mystique was there?!_ Shocked, she dropped the phone as she attempted to dial their number. Her hands shaking, she could barely push the numbers once she held the phone. _Breathe! _ Rogue told herself they were fine, after all Aby had called her. Rogue had to call them to reassure herself. She sounded alright, but this was Mystique and she couldn't be trusted. Rogue had never been able to pinpoint why, but ever since their first meeting the blue woman had put her ill at ease.

Finally, she hit the send button, as the phone started to ring again.

"Hello?" the wary voice answered.

"Aby? Are you ok?" Rogue worked to keep the hysteria out of her voice.

"Oh my gosh, Rogue! How are you? Are you ok? What do you mean am I ok? Of course, I am. Can you tell us where you are? Wait, let me get Ryder," Aby shot the rapid fire questions at Rogue, who was instantly filled with relief at the sound of her best friend. She could hear Aby put the phone down as she went to get Ryder.

Shakily, Rogue ran her hand through her hair, tucking a silky white strand behind her ear. _They're ok, they're safe._ She took a deep breath, and released it slowly.

"Rogue, are you ok?" Ryder sounded concerned.

"I'm fine…"

"Are you sure?" Aby interrupted.

Rogue had to smile. _ They _were_ fine._ "Yes, I'm very sure. I got your message." She was surprised by the silence on the other end of the phone. Then a thought occurred to her. If Mystique had been there, surely they noticed her abnormal appearance. Perhaps they realized she was a mutant, and figured out that Rogue was one too. Suddenly Rogue wished she hadn't called at all. She swallowed the huge lump that had recently formed in her throat. "You said Misty was there?"

Ryder answered, "Uh…yeah. We wanted to warn you, although she didn't get anything from us. We both still have your 'gifts'. Well…we think it Misty. She came out to the farm pretending to be a detective."

Aby inserted, "Same here, minus the farm."

Ryder continued, "I called and warned Abs." Then he chuckled, "She sure ticked off my Mom. Mom said she gave that woman what for."

Rogue was overwhelmed. _They met Mystique and didn't notice her skin?_ "Wait, she met your parents?"

Aby took over, "Sure did. I'm not sure she enjoyed the 'Casa de Wind' though." She giggled, "You know how loud it gets here."

Rogue answered automatically, "Yeah."

Abygail grew serious, "Rogue, honey, we _think_ it was Irene's friend Misty. We do know this: the woman was not a real detective – not in a rented car."

Ryder added, "She never even offered to show a badge. And she asked if you had given us anything, and asked specifically about your laptop."

"Ryder, what did she look like?"

"Um…well, she had black hair and …"

Aby took charge, "She was wearing a blue skirt suit with horrible black heels. Her hair, black, was wrapped in a tiny bun at the nape of her neck. No jewelry. Her rental car was also blue, from Enterprise. I saw the sticker in the window."

_Black hair? That couldn't be Mystique…could it? _Rogue shook her head, Aby had a career either in the police or fashion. "No, I mean what did she look like?"

"Rouge, I don't know what you mean…she _looked_ like a normal person who dresses badly. Well, a _lying_ normal person who dresses badly."

Rogue thought for a moment, then responded, "Thanks you guys. Um… can I call you back in a few?"

Both of her friends answered, "Sure."

Rogue smiled, "Jinx."

She quickly hung up and dialed another number. Rogue prayed that the cell wouldn't be tracked, but she need some answers immediately and didn't have time to find a payphone.

"Charles, if this…"

"Hello Irene."

"Rogue!" Irene clutched the phone receiver to her, "Where are you?"

Rogue fought the urge to laugh. "I need some answers."

"Rogue, dear, please come home and I'll answer whatever you need to know!"

"Home? Where would that be? Jackson? Natchez?" Rogue set the phone in her lap, closing her eyes, and took a deep breath. She was getting off subject, and didn't have time for this argument. She lifted the phone back to her ear, Irene was already speaking.

"meant to...please dear, just come back and I'll explain everything."

"Irene, is Mystique a mutant too?" Rogue was pretty sure the blue skin was all the proof she needed, but she wanted to hear Irene admit it.

"Yes, she is."

"What's her power?"

"Rogue, I don't understand, just come back…"

Rogue nearly growled into the phone, "What _is_ her power?"

"Uh, ok….she's a shapeshifter. She can become anyone once she's seen them, even just a picture. She can become anyone, anytime. She can't become an inanimate object though. Please Rogue, let me explain. I'm sor.."

Rogue hung up the phone. It suddenly made sense – everything was clear. _Mystique could be anyone, anytime…_ She could very well have been the detective that visited Ryder and Aby. _She could be anyone, anywhere._ Rogue stood up, going to her windows, and shut the shade. Turning back to her room, Rogue realized nowhere was safe. _I'll never be free._ Of course, Rogue understood the woman was not omnipresent, but it didn't ease her fear. Mystique could have been following her all along.

Rogue grabbed her bag, and threw what little she had unpacked into it. _I'll never be able to stop running._ She hurriedly tossed the complimentary toiletries into her bag as well. She pulled her sneakers on, snatched the phone and bag, and raced to the door. She jerked the door open only to find the man called 'Jon' staring back at her. A chill rushed up her spine as one thought echoed in her mind…

_Is he really who he claims to be?_

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	15. Three Card Monte

**Three-Card Monte**

Charles took the elevator to the staff level and headed straight for Logan's door. He needed to explain more fully, help Logan to understand his choices, and apologize for not fully trusting his old friend. Charles reached up to knock on the door, when suddenly it was yanked open to reveal a wild eyed Logan with his claws drawn, breathing heavily.

Logan almost stepped forward before his eyes lit upon the Professor waiting at his door with hand raised. He looked down at the box, "That looks a tad small to be a bottle of bourbon."

Charles shifted in his chair, and glanced down at the box atop the files he held in his lap.

"I didn't know I needed to bring a peace offering."

Logan grunted, "Yeah, you should've."

Charles leaned left, quickly examining the room, as he said, "I feel like I should ask if anything needs to be replaced." Logan groused under his breath, causing Charles to add, "but I won't because whatever was destroyed probably asked for it."

Logan turned away from the door, holding his arms away from his sides, as he drew a deep shuddering breath, retracting the blades.

Without invitation, Charles moved into the room and started, "Logan, I hoped you might be sleeping…"

"So you could wake me?" Logan didn't face his old friend.

Suddenly uncomfortable, Charles began to fidget with the folders in his lap, "No of course not." He took a deep breath. He had never dealt with Logan's anger directed at him. "Perhaps I should have started with an apology."

"Perhaps" Logan conceded, but he didn't want an apology. The time for apologies was over. Then he sighed, "Look Chuck, I get it. I do. I'm not some animal that doesn't understand the concept of family…"

Charles opened his mouth to argue, but Logan continued, "but nothing has changed. Even _if_ she is your daughter, she's a threat to this team. She's dangerous, and we still need to enact our original defensive strike plan."

"I believe there are things we need to discuss."

Logan whipped around, mouth agape, "Don't you mean 'more orders to give'?"

Charles smiled sadly, "No, I _mean_ we need to talk. I _know _you understand the choices I made." he tightened his grip on the files. "But, Logan, if she is my daughter, we need to make changes…"

Logan stood tersely, his voice harsh, "She's a threat, Chuck."

Xavier took a deep breath, "Yes, right now, she still is."

"And possibly working on Mystique's behalf."

Charles shook his head, "We don't know…"

"So we're agreed then?" Logan slammed the bedroom door, and crossed his arms, as if there would be no disagreement on the matter.

Charles looked back at Logan with weary eyes, "Yes…for now."

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Mystique chose a sultry blonde for her façade before entering the hotel. After requesting the Presidential Suite, she headed for the Lounge as her luggage was delivered to the room. She needed a drink. Sitting on the barstool, Mystique waited for some overly eager, unhappily married man to approach her. It was not as if she needed their money, she had plenty. She could even afford the suite she requested, but it wouldn't hurt Magneto's pocketbook either. She hid a shiver recalling his recent threat to bring a building down on her head. It was that very power that had drawn her to him in the beginning, and her desire for him. However, he had only seen her as an employee, so she sought satisfaction elsewhere.

The bartender approached for her order, she waved him off, and turned to face the bar. Since she was in town at a hotel at Magneto's expense, Mystique decided to take full advantage. She pulled out her cell, and punched in his number. She was not surprised when she got his voicemail. He would not always answer her call, particularly if he was with others at the time.

"It's me. I'm at the Ritz in Westchester. I'm in the Presidential suite. Why don't you come and see me? I need you."

For a moment, Mystique considered that she might be insane, hating and loving the feelings he evoked simultaneously. Mystique smiled haughtily, besides she enjoyed things when they got rough. He filled her with terror, and ignited a flame of passion that even Irene could not extinguish. He could easily kill her whenever they encountered one another, but he never had. _Maybe __that __near __death __is __what __draws __me __in? _His animalistic proclivities drove her mad. _Then __I __am __crazy__…_

She hung quickly as she noticed her first victim shimmying up to the bar next to her. Mystique pasted on a sexy smile, purring "Hi there."

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He figured that he'd spent way too much time thinking about her kissable lips and mesmerizing wide green eyes. Remy sat up on his hotel bed. _This __will __never __do._ His orders had been simple: bring the girl back without touching or harming her. He knew what the guild would say. He knew what Magneto would do, or in the very least he could imagine. But he had gotten his answers. She was a mutant, like him. He just didn't know _what_ she could do. _Well, __it __ain__'__t __flying_ he thought with a chuckle. There would have been no need for a train, and no reason for him to exhaust himself chasing the fool thing.

"Peut-être qu'il est temps pour un nouveau plan," he ran his fingers through his shaggy chestnut hair and pulled out a deck of cards, absently shuffling. He couldn't find a logical reason to lengthen this job, except his own idiotic desire to do so. He was a thief. He had a job. He was being paid excruciatingly well. From what he was getting from this job, Remy knew with a couple investments, he would never have to work again. He stood. _It__'__s __just __another __steal. _ He twisted his neck until he heard the needed cracking sound. _I__'__m __a __thief __and __this __is __simple._

It was that singular thought replaying in his mind which brought him to her door. He stood at her door for what felt like hours, but his thief's mind told him mere seconds had passed. Not knowing her power, Remy knew he needed to quickly take her down with the syringe in his right hand. _And __then __this __will __all __be __over._ He could once again return to stealing things that did not steal his breath away.

He took a deep breath, steeled himself, then lifted his left hand to knock.

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Scott knew she had been watching him. The reason she was spying was the mystery. He shrugged to himself, not feeling up to examining the female mind. Next to him, Paul slammed his locker, and said, "See ya tomorrow Redeye."

Scott smirked, "Still not funny, man." Paul waved and headed down the hall. Scott tossed his literature book into his locker, and shut the door just in time to see the blue puff of smoke announcing Kurt's arrival. Scott quickly looked around, grabbing the younger man's elbow moving to stand in front of him. Discovering no witnesses, Scott nagged, "Kurt you can't just pop in whenever you feel like it. Look how long it took Kitty to get use to it."

"Nichts besonderes! I made sure no one was around, mein freund," Kurt slung his backpack onto his shoulder, shook loose of Scott's hold, "I heard you and Jean talking about our dreams."

Scott drew back, questioning, "How could you…"

"Ah mein freund, wall crawling has its advantages. No one ever looks up," he explained with a knowing smile and pointed to the ceiling, "You wouldn't believe the things I've heard."

Pushing his glasses back onto his nose, Scott grumbled, "I'm not sure I want to know." Kurt just laughed which only furthered Scott's belief the boy spied on everything at the mansion and probably everywhere else too.

"So?" Kurt urged.

Scott stared at his friend helplessly. He had been lost in thought considering all the things Kurt possibly already knew, which made him feel as about as creeped out as Kitty.

Kurt lifted his holo-induced hands, gesturing, "About our dreams? Are you going to talk to the Professor?"

Walking down the hall, Scott snapped his fingers, "Yes! I am planning to speak to him when we get home." He cocked his head, "Did you want to…"

"Yes!" He nodded excitedly, trailing Scott.

Scott paused thoughtfully, "Yeah, that makes sense since you and I are having such vivid dreams about the girl." He turned, exiting the building, and walking to his car.

"Vielleicht…maybe we should name her? So we could at least call her something." Kurt followed swiftly, anxious to be home and get answers to their dreams.

"Dude, I'm sure she _has_ a name." Scott tossed his backpack into the backseat, then glanced to Kurt, "Is Kitty riding today?"

"I don't know. Aren't you tired of calling her, 'her'?" Kurt slid into the passenger's seat.

Scott buckled his seatbelt, "Well, yeah, but she _has_ to have a name. Besides what would you call her? 'Touchy'?" snickering at his own joke.

Kurt didn't laugh, but stared straight ahead, instead answering, "I'd call her 'Jade'. She had such beautiful green eyes."

Even though Kurt couldn't tell, Scott rolled his eyes, "Yeah man, you can explain all that to the Professor." He started the car, and pointed it towards their home. But Scott couldn't help but wonder what her name actually was, and how much he'd been thinking just that.

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Irene was a ball of nerves. She had been completely caught off guard by the phone call from Charles, then one from Rogue. She sat in her favorite chair, cradling the phone, hoping Rogue would call again. While a precog, Irene simply could not see everything, and hardly ever saw people's reactions. She shuddered, knowing this day had been coming, for a long time. Her own personal judgment day.

Irene had chosen her course, choosing Rogue's as well in the process. Unfortunately, she had not foreseen the aftermath of those choices. She knew she would have to answer to Charles soon enough for her betrayal, just how much she was uncertain.

She had allowed Erik to believe he was her father. Soon, she would be telling them both the truth. Irene sank deeper into her chair. She refused to think about them any longer. She focused on Rogue, attempting to pull forth a vision from the air regarding her location. If she could find Rogue, she could inform Erik, who would bring her home. That was all she'd ever wanted – a home for her and Rogue, safe from all of it. But no matter where Irene had gone, all of it followed them. Raven found her, every place she went. And now, Erik would never let them go. She frowned, as her brows furrowed, knowing there was only so long she could protect her girl.

The time for her reckoning was almost at hand. She could feel it slipping slowly away. All the control she'd had, eluding her grasp. Other forces vied for dominion. Irene ground her teeth, making her choice, choosing yet again for Rogue. She would protect her girl for as long as she was able.

But soon, it would no longer matter. Soon it would pull Rogue away. And soon, Irene would answer for her lies – to all of them. Soon, there would be no hiding place. Irene sighed. It was all coming to a head, and everyone would know the truth.

_Soon…_

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Charles shuffled the papers in his lap, placing them back into their respective folders, "Logan, you should get some rest before leaving tomorrow morning."

Logan pushed away from his desk, scraping the chair on the wooden floor, "Yeah, but _something_ keeps interrupting my sleep," offering a pointed look at the Professor.

Charles cleared his throat, "Well yes, but now that we've settled everything. You can get the much needed rest." He sorted the files, again placing the small box on the top.

Logan rubbed his face. He knew he would soon be asleep even if Chuck didn't leave his room. "I'm gonna get right on that Chuck."

"Logan," Xavier looked to his old friend, "I'm glad we've come to this _arrangement_."

Logan stood, walking around Charles, and opened the door to his room, "Yeah, it's been a blast. I'm mailing my 'thank you notes' tomorrow…" when suddenly his phone beeped alerting him to a message. Logan pulled the cell from his pocket, and pushed a couple of buttons to find the caller's name. He shot Xavier a look, "Uh…I gotta take this."

Charles responded, "Of course." Logan turned, grabbing his jacket, and left the room, leaving a confused Professor.

With his ear pressed to the phone's receiver, Logan growled.

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Rogue knew there was little time to waste. With what she had learned on the phone with Aby and Ryder, she had thrown caution to the wind. Risking it all, she called Irene, to find out the truth about Mystique. _She __could __be __anyone_. The woman was a shapeshifter. While she _knew _she couldn't trust Irene, Rogue feared Mystique could have been following her the entire time. Even alone in her room, Rogue felt unsafe.

"I am not a victim. I decide." She said in the quiet of her room.

Determined not to be Mystique's pawn in whatever contrived game she was playing, Rogue grabbed her things, stuffed her feet into her sneakers, and rushed to the door. She jerked the door open with a gasp, finding the man called 'Jon' staring back at her. A chill raced up her spine.

Before she could stop herself, she asked, "What are you doing here?"

She saw his mouth open to answer, but he didn't say anything. His left hand was lifted as if to knock on her door. She glanced back to his face, his expression one of surprise. Then his left hand touched his face. Rogue looked at him, really looked at him. His fingertips were touching his skin next to his eyes. His eyes, which were black with red irises.

Rogue blindly took a step backwards, gulping air. 'Jon' started towards her as his mouth worked wordlessly. Rogue threw her hand up in front of herself, stalling his movements.

Rogue looked him right into his eyes, and demanded, "Who are you?"

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**Translations:**

**Peut-être qu'il est temps pour un nouveau plan: maybe it's time for a new plan**

**Nichts besonderes: no big deal**

**mein freund: my friend**

**Vielleicht: maybe**

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you to Wolf Skater, darkfirex199, KaliAnn, queenith2, Marigab, TrickyBusiness, and Silverwolf27 for your reviews. Even if you aren't a member of the site, you can review anonymously. Thank you to those who continue to review and keep me going!<strong>

**Special thanks to TrickyBusiness, who unknowingly gave me some very special moments in this chapter!**


	16. Sleeping Lions

**Sleeping Lions**

The bellman pushed the heavily laden cart through the large suite's double doors. The slim blonde swept her hand towards the dining table, where he was to set out the courses and champagne. He admired every inch of the desirable woman from toe to her head. He thought she would be able to stop traffic, and have every man chasing after her to help her wade through the jam she would have created. He slowly placed the items on the table, enabling him to spend more time committing her figure to memory. Once he finished, he approached her with tab for her signature. He smiled suggestively, "That's a lot of food for such a petit lady."

The blonde returned his smile with much less enthusiasm retorting, "Yes, my lover gets hungry," she leaned forward giving him a indecent view of her ample cleavage, "you know…after."

The young man gulped painstakingly and nodded. She handed him the small black book, and he walked awkwardly to the door, exiting.

Mystiques instantly transformed back into her normal turquoise skin, sulfur eyes, and flaming red hair. Smoothing her white dress, she murmured, "Guess that was _frosty_ enough for him..."

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Kitty waved to her friend and exited the building, walking towards the near empty parking lot. She quickly scanned the lot, unable to locate Scott's small sports car. Soon, she stood in the place she was sure where Scott had parked. Kitty turned in a full circle, searching for him or the others. She thought perhaps they were playing some kind practical joke on her.

"Aw man." Perturbed, Kitty kicked a rock. "If this is some sort of joke, guys. It isn't even funny!" A couple of teens hanging around chatting looked at her curiously. Kitty looked at her feet, sighing. _Just __because __I__'__m __the __youngest__…__and __newest. _She blew her bangs from her face, and stomped her foot. "Not funny guys!"

The other students cast another peculiar glimpse at her, then proceeded to get into their cars and drive away. Kitty was left the lone person in the barren lot. She uneasily checked her watch, knowing she had not spent that much time chatting with her biology partner. Her eyes widened alarmed when she saw the late hour. _Oh __no! __They __left __me._

Kitty stomped her foot again, disheartened. _Now __how __am __I __getting __home?_

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Remy realized his mistake a second too late.

He put his hand to his face, making his next mistake. He followed her eyes as they flew to his own. _Mon __dieu, __the __glasses! _He knew immediately she could easily see his black eyes and red orbs staring back at her. She gasped, taking a step back. Unthinkingly Remy stepped into her room before he could stop himself. She raised her hand protectively in front of herself, and gasped, "Who are you?"

Remy stopped all movement instantly. He knew from experience that with mutants hands were dangerous things – his own, a prime example, should be registered as lethal weapons. Remy closed his eyes, realizing with a rapid growing dread that the syringe was still in his right hand. _Eh, __if __there __was __ever __a __time __to __change __the __plan__…_

He stood static as he watched her eyes dart searchingly. Remy decided to play a desperate hand, "What's wrong chérie?" Her eyes flew back to his face, one slightly squinting. He thought she looked as though she were about to lose it. Keeping his eyes on her hand, and praying her power wasn't at all like his own, Remy recklessly took another step forward.

"Jane…"

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"…she touches my face again, and then darkness. That's when I wake up. It's the same almost every time. But mein freund, every time I feel as though she draining my soul, and that _look_ in her eyes…" Kurt trailed off, turning to stare out at the passing scenery.

"I know, man. I do. And she didn't even _touch_ me," Scott frowned sympathetically. He cast a glance at his passenger, then back at the road ahead. He nervously cleared his throat. "You know we spent a lot of time at the debrief talking about her and her ability, but we didn't talk about how it felt." Scott paused as he felt Kurt's eyes on him.

"Ja...it was electric."

"Yeah?" Scott raised a brow questioningly.

"Nicht, I mean it hurt, but it was like a dream. I could feel…my energy being pulled away and I couldn't stop her."

Scott absorbed the new information, thinking about his own dream. He realized something, "Kurt, in the dream, are you scared?"

"Nicht. It's more like I'm looking for something, but almost like I _know _her."

As he pulled onto the long drive up to the institute, Scott frowned again, "Yeah…mine too."

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Rouge looked around the room, searching for a weapon. Her hand would only hold him off for so long, if at all. And if he was actually Mystique, Rogue was still unsure of what else she could do. While Irene had informed her of Mystique's shapeshifting power, she didn't trust Irene enough to believe that was _all_ Mystique was capable of doing. She was considering the lamp when he asked, "What's wrong chérie?"

_If __this __is __Mystique, __why __not __attack __me?_ Rogue tightened her grip on the phone and gloves in her left hand. _What __if __he__'__s __not __Mystique? __What __am __I __doing?_ She looked back at his face, hoping for a reason to believe he was just a normal guy. _But __his __eyes__…_ She then noticed he was hiding his right hand behind his back, and squinted slightly as if she could see through him. Her gaze swept back to his eyes, but his focus was now only on her bare hand. _He __knows! _She could feel the panic rising. _He __knows __what __I __am!_ Rogue looked to her hand and back to his face, his cardinal eyes stayed riveted on her hand. _Those __eyes__…_

He took a step closer, "Jane…" She heard a faint, beeping noise.

Unexpectedly, Rogue felt herself overwhelmed with a memory, of herself as a young child in Egypt, picking pockets for the dark haired, bearded man with loud booming voice. She didn't want to be a thief, but she _had_ to, or he would do terrible things to her. If she was good, he'd only smack her around some, but if she didn't obey, those blood red eyes haunted her nightmares – terrorizing her until she would steal for him again.

Once she had escaped him, she vowed never again would he use her. Now she found herself locked in his glowing red stare. She raised her other hand up, screaming, "You'll not take me again!"

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Concerned at Logan's sudden departure, Charles followed him from the room and down the hall. Logan had just basically told Xavier to leave so he could get some sleep, and yet one look at his cell phone and Logan was rushing out of his bedroom. As Charles continued trailing Logan down the lengthy hall, he could hear Logan on his phone but was unable to understand any actual words. He could hear Logan grunting and an occasional growl.

Reaching the stairs, Logan started down. Charles turned for the elevator. _What __would __cause __him __to __rush __out?_ Charles wanted to ask, slow Logan's departure, but after their recent discussion, he thought silence would be his best course of action. Arriving on the main floor, Charles found he could finally hear Logan talking.

"What _did_ you say?" Xavier watched as Logan ran his hands through his hair, taking a deep breath. Then Logan growled, "I'm coming _for_ you."

Charles felt helpless as Logan shot out of the door and into the garage. He was joined by Ororo at the window in time for her to see Logan at the gates leaving the campus. "Where's he headed? I thought he was supposed to be resting." Ororo asked inquisitively.

Charles rubbed his chin, "I haven't a clue."

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Abygail looked down as something slammed into her right leg, clamped onto her calf and boot, then dug in for dear life. "Bre, is that you?" The tiny head of chestnut curls nodded into her leg. "What's going on?"

Her younger sister whined, "Zephyr's chasing me." Aby sighed deeply.

After peeling her sister off her leg, Aby knelt and brushed the curls from her sibling's face, "Aren't you playing?" The five year old blushed, and nodded again.

"I'm hiding." Breeze grinned widely, revealing a missing tooth.

Abygail tweaked Bre's tiny upturned nose, "He'll find you on my leg, try another spot…more not a leg." She smiled back at her sister, and sent her off for more elusive hiding places.

Just as she was straightening, her phone beeped. Aby smiled to herself. _Well i__t__'__s __about __time!_

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Mystique took a bite of the caviar spooned excessively on the cracker, chasing it with a few sips of champagne. She reached for another cracker and more caviar when she heard the banging on the door. Since the room service had already arrived, Mystique was at a loss on who could be there. She wasn't expecting anyone for hours.

She reached for the knob, and turned it, only to have the door hurled back into her. Before she could even blink, a large hand grabbed her around the throat and slammed up against the wall. Mystique clawed at the weathered hand, kicking at her attacker while gasping for air. Just she was starting to lose consciousness, she felt him loosen his grip only slightly as if he were playing with her – a cat with a mouse.

Her citrine eyes widened when she felt his hot breath upon her ear, "I should kill you."

Mystique pulled at his hand, and managed to choke, "Don't." She pushed at his chest, which was now flush against her, which drove any remaining air from her lungs and hindered her from kicking him.

Scratching her cheek with his unshaven whiskers, he raised a clawed hand and snarled, "I've been waiting for this since the airport."

He crushed his mouth onto hers, biting and drawing blood. Mystique squirmed in his tightening hold, out of breath, and gulped, "Can't breathe…"

Nose to nose, his ocher eyes met hers, "I'll teach you to leave without giving me a proper sendoff!" He tossed her onto his shoulder, slammed the door, storming further into the suite while Mystique screamed.

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Remy realized his mistake a second too late.

It would be his third since arriving at her door. He realized in that moment he had seriously underestimated this job. The simple 'grab and go' had become a tragedy of errors in a manner. He instantly thought of the many ways he could have simplified the task. He could have charmed her at the bus station. He could have whisked her away outside. He could have dosed her immediately.

However, he'd done none of things, and now he was taking his life in hands, approaching a caged redhead who looked as though she would tear him apart. He raised his left hand slowly, hoping to ease to the tension he could feel palpable in the room, knowing it could bring attention to his right behind his back. Remy thought fast, shoved the syringe into his back pocket, and brought his right forward. He moved slowly with both hands in the air.

Remy inched forward gently calling the name he'd been given, "Jane? It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you."

He kept his eyes trained on her hand, oblivious to the panic playing over her face. Then her hand began to shake, and he felt a chill. Suddenly she shouted, "You'll not take me again!"

His eyes shot to her face. Her eyes had gone completely white, her hair flew from her face, and she hovered off the ground. Remy gulped, and reached for the syringe.

From nowhere, lightning shot from her hands, throwing him across the room, slamming into the wall. Pain pierced him from behind as he slid down the wall, crumpling onto the floor. He blinked against the agony he was feeling, as his world started to spin and turned foggy. He worked to stand, as spots danced before him. Remy's knees trembled then gave way; he grabbed onto a nearby table, but fell against it, swiping everything onto the floor. He could feel himself being pulled into a dark abyss. Remy struggled to see, blinking, but it was so foggy, the earth whirling. Just before the darkness overtook him, he was able make out her sneakered feet floating inches from his face. He reached for her and plunged into the abyss.

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Charles realized that what he was doing could be considered a breach of trust. The conversation between himself and Logan was a mere jumping off point, with which they could rebuild their friendship. But as he tracked his old friend's cell using its GPS, Charles assuaged his guilt telling himself he would behave the same for any X-man. If Logan found out and felt differently, it would just be another hurdle to leap over when and if they got there.

Charles knew something was wrong. He could feel it. Logan had rushed off without a word to anyone. Commandeering a car, and speeding off in that fashion meant trouble.

_Something __has __to __be __wrong._ Logan had basically kicked Charles out of his room, wanting to rest before his next assignment, and abruptly after a call was leaving for parts unknown. Xavier understood that sometimes Logan needed time away from the institute and the kids. But considering the current circumstances, it was unlikely Logan was succumbing to his wanderlust.

_What? _He leaned forward and looked closely at his screen, checking the coordinates again. Then he triple checked. _That __can__'__t __be __right__… _Charles slumped back in his chair, rubbed his forehead, and said aloud in the empty room, "Why would Logan go _there_?"

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Abygail hung up from the phone call, hurried to her room, and shut the door. She pushed several buttons on the phone, punched a couple more, and then sat down on her bed. Aby swept her long curls from her face, took a deep breath, and quickly dialed a number. She pushed send and hoped he would answer.

"Hey, what's up?" She released her breath.

"Ryder, we have to go get Rogue."

"What! Why? What's happened?"

"I think she just killed someone."

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**Translations:**

**Mon dieu: my gosh**

**Chérie: dear/sweet**

**mein freund: my friend**

**Nicht: no**

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you to Anonymous, Wolf Skater, TrickyBusiness, Saiya-jin Queen, KaliAnn, and Raven34link for your reviews. I am inspired by your reviews! I <strong>**_love _hearing from you!**

**Remember you can review anonymously. Thank you to those who continue to review and keep me going!**

**I hope everyone enjoyed 'frosty' appearance. **


	17. Crash

**Crash**

Rogue dropped to her knees beside the prone form. _What __happened! _She could barely see him through the dense fog in the room. _Why __is __there __fog? _She waved her hand attempting to clear the air…_go __away__… _All of a sudden the room cleared, enabling Rogue to clearly see the still smoking body. "Oh my…I killed him." She wanted to reach out for a pulse, but caught sight of her naked hands. She pulled them back to her chest, turning, searching for her gloves.

Then so faintly she thought she imagined it, she heard, "Rogue…Are you there? Answer me."

Looking around, Rogue scrambled to where she had dropped her phone earlier. "Hello?" she answered hesitantly.

"Rogue, thank God! What happened?"

"Aby?" Rogue cried, "I don't know. I think I killed him."

She heard Abygail take a deep breath, "Alright, it's going to be ok. Just tell me what happened from the beginning."

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"What do you _mean_ she just killed someone?" Ryder ran his hand through his short blond hair. "We just talked to her!"

"I mean she thinks she killed him. She said his name was Jon."

_Oh, __well __that __clears __it __up__…_"Aby…" Ryder started.

"Ry, there's no time. We have to go. I can explain on the way." Aby paused briefly to tuck a piece of tawny hair behind her ear, "Look, I'm done packing. I'll borrow Dad's car and come get you."

Ryder sighed, "No, I'm coming. I just don't know what to pack for covering up a murder."

"Don't worry I've thought of everything…I hope."

Ryder pulled out his duffle, threw some necessities in, "How come that doesn't comfort me?"

"I watch too much tv."

He took a deep breath, "Where is she?"

"Pine Bluff, Arkansas. It's about five hours from here."

Ryder grabbed his bag and jacket from the back of a chair, "She didn't get very far."

"Well, she was traveling by freight train, which aren't known for their incredible speed."

He left his room, went downstairs, and snatched his truck keys from the table by the door. He scribbled a note for his parents telling them he'd left to pick up Rogue, wisely leaving out the part about murder. "Ok, I'm walking out the door, Aby."

"I'll be waiting."

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Logan pulled up in front of the deserted building. Killing the engine, he took a deep analyzing breath. The call had been from a payphone, so it didn't necessary mean it was actually her. In fact, it could have been number 4 on his "Needs Killing" list. It could be Mystique. _If __anything __has __happened __to __her__… _Logan tightened his grip on the steering wheel, and took another long inhale. For all the things he could smell, Mystique was not among them. Exhaling slowly, Logan stepped from the car on full alert.

He pulled his phone from his back pocket, and pressed the redial button. He hoped she would answer. After a couple of rings, she answered breathlessly, "Hello?"

"Hey. I'm here. Where are you?"

"I'm on the south side of the building, by the tables. But I can come to you…"

Logan interrupted, "No, I'll come to you. Stay where you are."

He heard her sigh, then, "Ok. I'll be here."

Logan was sure that he was being paranoid, but he'd learned a long time ago that it was better to be paranoid than dead.

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_Dead….He's dead. I killed him?_

Rogue stared at the dead body in her room. She sat on the floor, back against the bed, gloves and phone in her lap, but her eyes never left the body. Her friends were coming, but it was going to be a long wait. _What __happened? _Try as she might, Rogue could not remember what happened. _Maybe __I __don__'__t __want __to__…_ She finally pulled her eyes from the still form. Looking around the room, there was overturned tables, broken items on the floor, and a man shaped hole in the drywall.

Dragging her eyes back to the body, she wondered why Mystique hadn't changed back into herself. _Does __she __stay __whoever __she __is __when __she __dies?_ Rogue gasped, covering her mouth. _What __if __he__'__s __not __Mystique?_ She rapidly pulled on her gloves and crawled over the body. The body was lying atop several broken items from the table he'd knocked over. His shirt was half burned off of him still smoking from the burned edges, black marks covered his exposed chest, what looked to be bruises that had started to form, cuts and scrapes across his face and body, and blood oozed from a gash on his forehead. She went through his pockets looking for his id. She found nothing, save his room key. Grabbing her own key, she left the room, and went in search for his.

His room was at the other end of the hall from hers. She slid his plastic key into the door, and opened it. It was oppositely neat from hers at the present. _Of __course, __there __hasn__'__t __been __a __murder __in __here._ On the bed sat his black duffle. Rogue rummaged through, discovering several driver's licenses and passports, along with more cash than she'd seen in one place, and dozens of boxes of playing cards. She examined the licenses, all from different states, not one with the name 'Jon'.

Rogue sat down on the bed, running her gloved fingers through her hair. _I __killed __a __man __and __I __don__'__t __even __know __his __name. __Now __what __do __I __do?_ She noticed his phone sitting on the table near the window, apparently charging. Taking a deep breath, she gathered all his things, including the phone, into his bag, and left the room.

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True to her word, Abygail was waiting outside her front door when Ryder pulled up thirty minutes later. She quickly got into the truck, and buckled her seatbelt. They were silent until Ryder reached the highway.

"I can't believe we're doing this." He sounded so tired.

Abygail touched his shoulder, "I know."

"Ok, well, you said you'd explain on the way. We've got five hours. What happened?"

Aby nervously twisted her fingers, "After we talked to Rogue, she called Irene…"

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Ororo placed the wintersweet bulbs into her basket, arranging each neatly but firmly tucked inside. Going over her mental checklist, she picked up her gloves and spade then headed downstairs. After training sessions she enjoyed digging in her garden. Creating beauty had such a calming effect on her. Descending the stairs to the foyer, she noticed Charles in front of one of the tall windows. Despite her embarrassment earlier, Ororo found her curiosity demanding to be settled. She set the basket down near the foot of the stairs, and approached him.

"Charles?"

He did not turn, only answering, "Hmm?"

Ororo smiled indulgently. Oftentimes when the Professor was lost in thought the slight murmur was all anyone could pull out of him. "Something on your mind, Professor?" She touched his shoulder to ensure his full attention.

Charles turned his face to her, and smiled self-consciously. "Ah, no. I was actually waiting for the students to arrive."

Ororo laughed gently, "Then you'll have to wait a very long time," At his quizzical expression, she explained, "They're already here."

"Oh? I see." Charles furrowed his brows, seemingly concerned.

Ororo looked out of the window, searching, "Is something wrong, Charles?"

Charles moved away from the window, and headed towards the main room off the foyer. Ignoring her question, he asked, "When did they arrive?"

Ororo followed him, feeling very confused, but growing apprehensive, "Duncan dropped Jean off, and about fifteen minutes later the rest arrived. They are getting changed for the training session. Why?"

Charles entered the room and pressed the intercom, summoning the students to the main floor's hall. "I'm not sure yet."

Within minutes the teens descended the stairs, each interested in why the three of them were called. Jean was the last to appear, prompting Ororo's question "Where's Kitty?"

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Her scent was very faint, but Logan knew it without a doubt. He smelled it in Mississippi – twice – once in the cemetery, and again at the airport. Logan circled around the building following a different scent however. Kitty's. He knew Kitty's scent well, as he did all the team's members. Never knew when he would have to track them – the current situation a prime example. Logan inhaled again, the fragrance of buttery sugar cookies and evergreens tickled his nose. It was the sweet smell he had mentally assigned to Kitty, and it never failed to remind him of Christmas. _Maybe __that__'__s __why __the __Half-pint __doesn__'__t __bother __me__…__too __much._

Logan gritted his teeth. He could feel the wolverine inside clawing for release, seeking to hunt the threat down and if needed strangle the person who would hurt the kid. Coming up from behind the school to the area he'd been directed, Logan peered around the corner and saw her. Hunched over her book, her chestnut hair hung loosely over her shoulders while the soft breeze blew it into her field of vision causing her to hold it back in her left hand. She was scribbling away in her notebook, completely oblivious to everything around her – or at least that is how someone wanted it to look.

_Anyone __could __sneak __up __on __her__… _Logan growled. _Maybe __that__'__s __the __point._ Needing the reassurance since his recent run-in with the shapeshifter, Logan lifted his nose towards the seated girl, and sniffed again. The breeze sent her bouquet straight to him. Feeling Christmas envelop him, his inner wolverine relaxed and almost purred. Logan strode towards the picnic tables which were most likely used for lunch.

"Hey Half-pint."

Kitty jumped, "Oh, Mr. Logan," then frowned at the nickname.

"Hey, at least I didn't call you Chickencat." Logan chuckled as Kitty turned an adorable shade of pink.

She huffed, but stood and began collecting her books. "Sorry to call you Mr. Logan. The _boys_ totally left me here alone and then I couldn't find my phone, and only remembered your number and used the payphone," She paused briefly to gesture to the phone about thirty yards away, then continued to ramble, "I hoped you'd answer because I couldn't remember the main number, but you said to call you if I needed you then you did answer so I thought since you said you were coming I would get a head start on my homework. Is Ms. Ororo upset that I'm late for training? And why all claw-y?"

Logan had sat on the bench facing Kitty, leaning back onto the table. He had barely been listening to her chatter, used as he was to tuning out most of the prattle of the teenagers at the institute. But since Kitty was now staring at him with her hands on her hips, Logan realized he had missed something. "What now?"

Kitty exhaled, tucking her hair behind her ears, and crossed her arms. "I asked _why _you look as if you are going to rip apart the landscape?" Kitty nodded to his hands.

Logan looked down finding he had at some point released his claws. He quickly retracted them, and shrugged. Kitty only rolled her eyes, used to his wordless ways.

"Oh, I also asked if Ms. Ororo was upset that I'm late for training."

_Well, __crap._ Logan had not said one word to anyone when he'd received Kitty's distress call. He knew that _someone _would be upset, just not with Kitty. Deciding to go with the truth, Logan answered, "Um…no, Ororo is definitely not upset with you."

"Good." Kitty returned to her task of stuffing books into her bag when Logan unexpectedly said, "Hey, no rush. Finish your work."

Kitty looked up, concerned, "But won't I be keeping you from something?"

Logan grimaced inwardly thinking of all the things she could possibly be keeping him from doing, but ultimately concluded that he was comfortable where he was, and no one was missing them…yet.

"Nope. Sit down and do your homework." He pointed to her still opened notebook. She took the hint, and sat. Logan crossed his arms on his chest and leaned his head back towards the sky, closing his eyes. "I don't hear any writing." He smiled when he heard her pencil moving against the paper.

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"…at some point, she must have accidentally hit the redial button on her phone, calling me and I heard everything."

"Whoa." Ryder didn't know what to say. It was all so unbelievable. Aby touched his arm, he glanced at her. She looked so tired.

"She said she'd explain when we got there."

"There's more?" Ryder questioned, stunned.

"Apparently." She looked down at her lap.

Ryder shifted in his seat, pressing the accelerator, "Then we need to hurry."

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The boys had hastily explained they left Kitty, both were absentmindedly convinced she had obtained a ride with a friend. Charles summarily dismissed both teens to run their session with Ororo. "Well, that certainly explains it."

"What's that?" Charles started at her question, having forgotten Ororo was still in the room.

Charles cleared his throat to cover his faux pas, and disclosed, "I went to speak with Logan about…before." Ororo nodded so Charles continued, "Right after we finished our discussion, he received a message and left immediately."

Ororo sat down on the sofa next to him, "Who was the message from?"

Charles' brilliant cobalt eyes met hers, "I don't know."

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It was going to take probably five hours for her friends to get to there. Rogue stared at the man's body in the same position as before. She didn't know if she wanted to touch the body again. She felt that she should confirm he was actually dead as if she needed any convincing. He wasn't moving, that she could discern.

She had returned from his room, placed his bag on her bed, and sat down to face her victim. She had gone over it repeatedly in her mind, but it didn't make any sense. _I__'__ve __never __been __to __Egypt._

The memory was clear as ever though. The dark man with the beard and red eyes. He made her childhood miserable, forcing her to steal for him. Then one day, she stole from the bald man who chased her. The dark man attacked him, and she'd run for her life, for freedom. But it wasn't Rogue. The small child with mocha skin and white hair wasn't her. _It__'__s __not __my __memory. It's from that woman... __What __is __going __on? _Rogue didn't understand why she had these memories from the woman that night at the cemetery. Then it all became clear.

_That __night. _She looked at the body near the door. _He__'__s __not __the __first __person __I__'__ve __killed._

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**I know it's taken a while to get this chapter out. However, it was so long I divided it into two chapters. I will be uploading the new one in the next day or two. Thanks for sticking with me! **

**Thank you to Wolf Skater, Anonymous, Rougeflower, Queenith2, TrickyBusiness, KaliAnn, Raven34link, and Cerdwyn3 for your reviews. **

**Knowing that you all like what I'm writing keeps me going!**


	18. Buzz!

**Buzz!**

Irene listened to the phone's voicemail answer the phone yet again. She returned to her armchair in front of the fireplace, wondering what was going on and why her call was not being answered. She'd already left a number of messages, and did not want to leave another.

_Why is there no answer?_

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Her phone was buzzing. Mystique twisted on the couch and reached for the phone.

"Forget it." His hand drew hers back to him.

"It might be important." Mystique sat up, reaching again for the phone as his clawed hand wrapped around her naked waist, pulling her back onto the couch.

He covered her with his nude body, causing her to moan. "_This_ is the only thing that matters!" To emphasize his point, he sat up, snatched the phone from the table and threw it against the wall, shattering the small plastic device.

She slapped him, complaining, "Victor! You broke my phone!"

His yellow teeth drew into a evil snarl, "And?" He pushed her back on the sofa and crawled up her frame, "Now let's get back to business. Who was that blond at the door?"

Mystique laughed naughtily, "Frost."

Victor Creed licked her face from chin to ear, with his teeth on her earlobe growled, "I want her."

Mystique laughed as she shifted into Emma Frost, lilting, "Why, what big teeth you have…"

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Logan was dreaming of Christmas at the institute with hot toddy in hand, the sweet smell of the evergreen tree and gingerbread men baking filling his senses. Then he felt a small hand on his arm and heard a whispered, "Mr. Logan?" Logan heard the person take a couple of steps away, so he cracked an eye to find Kitty's warm chocolate eyes full of concern. "It's alright kid, I ain't gonna hurt you."

Kitty looked down at her shoes, nudging something with her toe. Logan popped his neck, easing out of the position against the table, and stretched. Glancing at the table where she'd been working, her books were still out. Kitty returned to the table, gathering her things into her bag. "I finished," She smiled mischievously crinkling her nose, "though it was hard with all your snoring."

Logan stood, pointing at her, "I wasn't asleep and I don't snore."

Kitty giggled, "Sure, Mr. Logan."

Logan grumbled, "I don't."

She shoved another notebook in her bag, then glanced up to him, "Were you dreaming of beer?"

His expression perplexed, "Huh? What…Why?"

Kitty swung her bag onto her shoulder, walked back to Logan, and replied, "You said 'smooth'."

Logan rubbed his eyes, and yawned, "I wasn't asleep."

She looked at him seriously, "It's ok, Mr. Logan. I kept watch." Taking in his confounded expression, she continued, "You were clearly wiped out. So I watched your back while you slept…without snoring."

Logan felt his chest puff a little at her sincere statement of protecting _him_ when he had come to save her. He smiled humbly, "Come on, let's get you home," taking her bag. He held her elbow to guide her – a gesture leftover from a lost era.

As they walked to the car, Kitty softly thanked Logan, "Thanks for coming to get me. I know you had better things to do."

"No, actually I didn't."

She gave a half-hearted smile, "Thanks anyway, Mr. Logan."

At the car, Logan opened her door, but Kitty just stood there. "Something the matter kid?"

Kitty turned to him, her lower lip quivering so very slightly he might have missed it except for his enhanced senses. "Mr. Logan, did they leave me on purpose?" When Logan opened his mouth to reply, but Kitty continued, "Like because I'm the newest…and youngest?"

Logan could kill those two boys for whatever reason they'd left Kitty behind. He had a mind to give the boyscout a good 'talking to with claws' when he returned to the mansion, but first he was going to explain to Chuck what had happened. Logan swept his hand through his dark hair. _Poor kid… _"I don't know why they did it, Half-pint, but if it was on purpose, they'll have to answer to me."

Kitty nodded, and got into the car, swiftly wiping her eyes. Logan shut her door, walked around to the driver's side and slid into the car. He was about to start the car, when he asked, "Are you hungry?"

Kitty turned watery eyes to him, surprised, "What?"

With a smirk Logan stated, "I'm hungry. I think I need some ice cream."

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Rogue stood, going to the window. Pulling the curtain back, she peered out unseeing. She was lost in time, over a week ago on that dock when Cody had asked her to dance. _It seems like it happened years ago…_ He was so sweet and shy when he asked, she'd felt bad turning him down. _ Just one dance – what could happen?_ Rogue scoffed. _If only I'd known…_ She could see it playing out in her mind's eye. The dance had set things in motion.

Closing her eyes, Rogue touched her forehead to the cool glass. She knew Cody wasn't dead. Aby and Ryder told her he'd returned to school only days later, none the worse for wear. It's what Mystique and Irene had told her that turned her stomach. The reason the X-men would never stop hunting her down, the reason they wanted to kill her. She had killed their teammates. She hadn't meant to even hurt them, but she had not known that her mere touch would have caused their deaths.

She knew the memory of the dark man belonged to Ororo, because she had every memory until that night when she killed her. The same was true of the lemur, the one named Kurt. The first one she had killed. Rogue didn't want to think about killing those people. Irene had confirmed that Rogue had killed them, which was why she was supposed to go to New York. And that's what ignited Rogue's actions. Rogue turned, looking over her shoulder at the silent body on the floor. _And I didn't even touch him…_

_Five hours is too long._ She sat back against the window, and speculated about who Jon actually was. Rogue closed her eyes, thinking back to his room, and wondered if she missed something. She considered going back and searching the room more thoroughly, then she smelled it. The sour odor was so familiar, and she knew where she'd encountered it before – the night she killed Kurt.

Rogue opened her eyes, and saw smoke, and stumbled backwards into a wall. _What in the world? _She found herself back in Jon's tidy room.

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"You want sprinkles?" Kitty opened her mouth to answer, when Logan ordered, "Put some sprinkles on there."

Logan got himself a coffee, paid, then led Kitty to a table near the corner. Placing the large goblet of cold sweet goodness in front of her, he commanded, "Eat."

Kitty took her spoon, diving in. _This is just what I needed._ Around a mouthful of chocolate ice cream, she mumbled, "Thank you."

Logan only waved off the thanks, sipping his coffee.

Kitty filled her spoon heaping with chocolate and sprinkles, but before lifting the spoon, she softly said, "I could have walked home."

Logan shook his head, "No, you couldn't have. It ain't right for a kid to be alone, walking anywhere. It's not safe. Anyone of us at the institute would have come and gotten you – no one would have wanted you walking back alone. You called me. I came. End of story." Kitty looked as though she wanted to say something more, so Logan grabbed a spoon, pointing with it to a mound of melting green, "What's this green stuff?"

She giggled, "Its mint chocolate chip. It's good," she nudged the bowl towards him, "Try some."

Logan snagged a sample, rolling it around on his tongue, then swallowed, "That's alright. Where's the vanilla?" Kitty pointed it out, turning the bowl for him as she dug back into the treat. They continued sharing the dessert until they'd devoured half the huge frozen mound.

Logan ventured, "All good?"

Kitty swallowed the bite, and nodded. She leaned back in her chair, her hand on her stomach, "I think I'm done. No more for me."

"Good" Logan nodded absently, and gulped the rest of his coffee, waving at the server for a refill. "It was the sprinkles. They always put me over too."

Kitty laughed. Looking to Logan, she remarked, "No one is going to believe this really happened when I tell them."

Logan raised a brow, confused, "Huh?"

She twirled a piece of hair between her fingers, "No one will believe that the ferocious Wolverine needed some ice cream."

"If you tell anyone, I'll only deny it." he answered with a wink. "Now how are we going to get those two?"

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"I need some caffeine, and I need to call Mom and Dad. We have to stop." Aby pleaded with Ryder.

Ryder was going to say something back about wasting time, but when he looked at her, the words died on his lips. She looked a tad green for his liking. He checked the clock and his mileage. _Only two more hours…we could stop._ He glanced at the gas tank. _Wouldn't hurt to fill it up either. _He looked back at Aby who was resting against the window, "Sure, we can stop. I need to fill her up anyway, but you should think about getting a nap in or something. You look rough."

Aby smile ruefully, "Yes, just what every woman wants to hear."

At the next exit, Ryder pulled into a truck stop and said, "I'll grab you a coke. Anything else?"

She answered, searching her purse for her phone, "Something salty, please. I'm getting a bit car sick."

"Got it." Ryder shut the truck's door, and headed for the convenience store.

Aby took a deep breath and punched in the number for her parents' house.

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If he had been able, Scott would have kicked himself. As it was, Ororo had done the kicking for him in the danger room session. Normally Ororo was the more tempered of their two teachers, but with Scott and Kurt, Ororo was no holds barred. Scott limped from the danger room, holding his boots, having reinjured his ankle trying to avoid a trapdoor. Even Kurt had almost lost his tail when a huge saw had swung out from the wall as he tried to help Scott.

Scott shook his head. He was the team leader and supposed to look out for everyone – all the time. He should have checked with Kitty, but he'd been too wrapped up in his dream of the scarlet haired girl with emerald eyes. Shaking his head again to clear it, Scott was beginning to think himself obsessed. _There's just something about her…I can't shake the feeling…_

The elevator dinged its arrival on the student's floor. Scott exited, limping to his room to shower and change. He stripped off his shirt, entering the bathroom, and turned the shower to hot. He forced his thoughts from the southern girl back to Kitty. Scott wondered why the Professor was so upset. _Sure, I know I'm responsible…but she was just at school. _Removing the remaining articles of clothing, he stepped under the hot spray wincing when it hit some open cuts.

_I'll need to apologize when Kitty gets here. Wonder if she walked home? Why were the Professor and Ororo so mad? She's safe at school. None of it makes sense. What's the worst that could happen?_

Putting his head under the stinging spray, Scott mentally reminded himself again to apologize to Kitty. Then he allowed his thoughts to return to the girl who originally caused him to sprain his ankle and what she was doing now.

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Charles dialed the phone again, disturbed by the lack of response on the other end. Ororo entered his office pulling off her gloves, smudges of dirt covering her shirt and face, and sat in front of his desk. Charles hung the receiver on its cradle when the voicemail answered his call, yet again.

"Was the session that intense?" Charles motioned to her shirt.

Looking down, Ororo replied, "Yes and no. Scott and Kurt certainly received a workout, but this is from the wintersweet I just planted."

"The boys _are_ still alive, yes?"

Ororo smirked, "For now."

Charles shook his head, mentally running the possible scenarios that Ororo had inflicted upon the two. "No need to overwork them in the danger room. They will be punished for leaving Kitty behind."

She laughed, "Trust me Charles, they were punished today…but not too badly." Ororo nodded towards the phone, "Still no answer?"

He intertwined his fingers, resting his chin on top, "No, and I'm worried. Kitty's not answering her phone. Logan's not answering his. He notified me that Mystique could possibly be back in town."

Ororo seemed surprised, "Already?"

Charles cocked an eyebrow, "Yes, it seems they had a run-in at the airport."

Ororo leaned back into the wingback chair, "I would have thought she would have stayed longer to indoctrinate the girl."

"As would I. I can only pray that my daughter," Charles' hand went to his heart, "will see through her lies. However, Cerebro did locate Mystique at the house where I believe Irene is living currently. Logan reported she was most likely the one who caused his delay in returning." Charles pinched the bridge of his nose, "I just hope Kitty is alright. I've considered sending the team…"

"I would hope it need not come to that."

Charles nodded his agreement, "Nor do I, if they'd only answer their phones."

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"Why don't you call me, Astraeus?"

Abygail sighed, rubbing her forehead, "Because _Dad_, you're my dad, and you should be called 'Dad'."

"We just want you to feel free to express yourself, honey." Abygail's Mom, Sefarina responded.

"Look I just called to tell you where I was and that Z and Bre need to eat some _real_ food. Don't let them just hunt for food like lions on the savannah. They'll end up eating something sugary. I just got Breeze off sugar snacks, and she's much calmer."

Sefarina commented, "They'll be fine. We allowed you freedoms and look at you now."

Abygail was growing more frustrated by her parents' lackadaisical attitudes towards childrearing. She fussed, "Mom, Bre is only five and already losing teeth. Just be a Mom, ok? Just do this favor for me until I get back." She saw Ryder heading her way, "I love you both and I need to go." and hung up without hearing their replies.

Ryder opened the door, and passed over the bag for Aby. "Everything ok?"

"No, my parents refuse to actually take care of their children."

Ryder smiled in spite of himself, "Nothing new there. I'm surprised you learned to feed and clothe yourself."

Aby leaned her head back against the seat, "Yeah, me too. I don't want it like that for Bre and Zephyr. They deserve real parents."

He took a long drink of coke, before commenting, "So did you."

She dug into the bag, retrieving her own coke, and slugging it back as if it were alcohol. "Yeah, well, that didn't happen. Someone has to take care of them."

Ryder turned in his seat to look at her, "Aby, is that why we're going after Rogue? Because you _have_ to take care of everyone?"

Abygail gaped at him, "No! We're going because she needs us! ...and because we're all she has." she ended softly.

"I just worry about you. You don't have to be everything for everyone, you know." Ryder tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "And you're right – as usual – we are all Rogue has, and we need to get going." He straightened, cranking the truck; he glanced back at Aby who was buckling her seatbelt, "You ready to go save the day?"

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The phone continued to buzz.

Logan opened the door for Kitty, reminding her to buckle up. "Mr. Logan, your phone's ringing." She handed the small black phone to him.

"Huh, must have fallen out of my pocket." Logan pushed a button, "Hello?"

Kitty listened to the one sided conversation. "Yeah Chuck, I got her."

Logan shut her door, walked to the other side, and slid in. "…all about the boys leaving her alone at school."

He cranked the car, "Yeah, everything's fine." Logan hung up the call.

Kitty looked over to him, tucking her chestnut hair, behind an ear, "Is the Professor upset?"

"Yeah, with Scott and Kurt. But he was mostly worried."

Kitty furrowed her brows. "Yeah? You told him I called right?"

Logan ducked his head, "Nope, I rushed out to get you."

Kitty was puzzled with his rush, "Why? I was just at school. I told you I could have walked."

Logan turned in his seat to face her, "No, it wasn't safe….I mean, it's not safe," he sighed, "You never know what could happen."

She shrugged, "I'm an X-man…and I had your back." Kitty crossed her arms, indicating that was all need be said.

"Yep, Half-pint you sure did." Logan chuckled, "I appreciated the nap too." Kitty smiled back.

"Alright, so they're having dinner back at the institute, how about we grab some burgers?"

"Veggie, right?"

Logan put the car into gear, driving out of the parking lot, "Um…Yours can be," he shot her a sly grin, "The ferocious Wolverine needs meat."

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Rogue gasped in shock. _Why am I back in here?_ She moved to return to her own room, but with some equally foul smelling smoke, she found herself once again in her room standing over the body. She instantly took two steps back until she was backed against the wall. _What is happening to me?_ _Did I just imagine that?_

The hint of green smoke in the air confirmed that she had not imagined any of it. Rogue waved her hand dispelling the smoke. _Anymore smoke in the room will set off fire alarms and I do not need to explain this body again…_ Rogue almost laughed at herself. _I'm losing my mind!_ It was bad enough getting Ryder involved, but Abygail had heard the entire incident over the phone. _I should go to the police._ Rogue slid down the wall, landing with a thump on the floor. _What would I tell them? That I lightninged him to death?_

She rested her head on her drawn up knees, wishing her friends were already there with some answers that only seemed to escape her. Then the phone started to buzz. Rogue scrambled to the bed, grabbing her phone, but it was quiet. Rogue looked around, confused. _Where's the buzzing coming from then? _She began to search the room for the noise.

Suddenly Remy's finger twitched and his hand moved.

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	19. Merry Go Round

**Merry Go Round**

"How much longer?"

"Maybe an hour or more…unless we run into complications…" Ryder turned to Abygail as she shot him a look.

"How _much_ more complicated can this get?" She waved her arms around gesturing to their situation.

Ryder sighed, looking down at the instrument panel of his truck, "Abs, I just don't know. If you'd told me a day ago that I'd be driving hours to help one of my best friends to _maybe _dispose of a body…." He laughed humorlessly, "Well, I'd probably ask what sort of 'creative project' _your_ family was working on now – with all their stupid ideas on parenthood and to be 'free'…" he turned to find Aby staring wide-eyed at him. "Oh Aby, I didn't mean…"

Then she snickered. She quickly clapped her hand over her hand, stunned at herself. Giving a shocked expression to Ryder, he crumbled and started chuckling causing Abygail to join in the fit of laughter.

Leaning back into the seat, Aby relented, "Yeah, you're right. This does almost sound like some misconceived far-fetched cooperation scheme of Mom's. In fact, we might have actually done it since I brought all the tools!" She giggled again and wiped her eyes, giving a grateful look to Ryder, "Thanks I needed that release. This is all so surreal and I'm just so worried…"

"I can tell," Ryder interjected. "You finished your pretzels I brought you and started on your nails. I never knew you were a cannibal….although," he smiled widely, "that could make clean-up super easy."

He knew the hit was coming before she even struck. Landing a hard punch on his bicep, Aby commented, "Ew! Ryder! That's so gross."

"Oh I don't know, get you some fava beans and a nice chianti…?"

She rolled her eyes, "You know I hate that movie!"

He smirked and continued, "Quid pro quo. I tell you things, you tell me things….Quid pro quo. Yes or no?"

"Actually," Aby unbuckled her seatbelt, pulling her knees onto the seat, and edged closer to him, "there is something I need to share with you…" pausing to take in his confused expression, she clung to his shoulder and whispered into his ear, "I'm _so_ hungry…and you smell so tasty!"

"Wha…What are you doing, Abs?"

She nosed his neck, "having an appetizer, Ry." Then without any more warning, she bit down hard on his neck. Astound, Ryder suddenly jerked the steering wheel causing the truck to jump, Abygail yelped, throwing her arms around his neck. He struggled with the vehicle as it stuttered and lurched, trying to maintain control. Finally, Ryder managed to pull over safely onto the side of the highway.

Putting the truck in park he turned, wrapping an arm around Abygail, finding that they were nose to nose, pressed flush against one another, breathing heavily. She looked up, straight into his eyes, and opened her mouth.

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Logan took a massive bite out of the juicy double burger, watching as Kitty did the same on her veggie burger. He was impressed. _ For such a little thing, she sure can pack it away – must be all that phasing…_ He considered that if he had a daughter, he'd want her to be like Kitty – except without all the talking…and crying. Not that Kitty had cried in front of Logan, she had _almost_ cried but put on a brave face – which he appreciated. Logan did not like it when women cried…except maybe for the women at the bars crying for his number. He smiled proudly around his burger, laughing internally at his joke.

"What 'cha smiling for?'

Logan, still thinking of the ladies, mouth full of burger, mumbled, "Huh?"

Kitty giggled with her hand over her mouth, then swallowed her huge bite of burger, "I asked why you were smiling?"

He almost choked on the food in his mouth. There was no way he was going to share his personal thoughts about the opposite sex with Kitty. He thought fast and replied, "Just had a good idea about payback."

Kitty shrugged and took another monster bite of her sandwich.

The excursion to the ice cream shop had only been to cheer up the Half-pint, but it had become something more. They had unknowingly bonded. To Logan, the kids at the institute were soldiers that required his training until they were ready to fight the good fight. They were babies that needed his protection until they were able to fend for themselves. Cubs to guard. They needed to be toughened up – to which he excelled. Outside of their training, he had seen them as an annoyance, flies around his beer – buzzing with their teenage angst and drama.

However, Kitty had become more than just another annoying kid at the mansion. She pushed her way into situations during training – causing him to be almost paternal towards her. She had become more real, cherished almost.

He stared at Kitty as she continued to devour her hamburger. Suddenly, it was clear to him, as everything fell into place. To Logan, she had become the personification of why he needed to protect them all from Chuck's daughter.

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"Have tea with me?"

Her soft touch to his shoulder brought Charles from his reverie. Looking up to her, he nodded and turned to follow Ororo into the kitchen. "You didn't say much at dinner tonight, Professor."

Charles shifted in his chair, smoothing the tablecloth, and cleared his throat, "No, I am sure I did not. I have been thinking about her – what she is doing, where she is, but most importantly I am worried for her. How could she be feeling?"

Ororo finished setting the tea kettle on and sat next to her old friend, placing her hand atop his. "I know this is difficult for you…"

"Difficult is not enough of a description, Ororo," he pulled his hand from hers, "I am…" Charles cast about for a word, _How do I explain how this all feels… _"overwhelmed. I find out I have a daughter and my attempts to speak with her mother…Well, let's just say they were less than successful. Now I have to send Logan back to Mississippi, while we need to be recruiting this other mutant child…"

Ororo interrupted him, "Charles, you well know that the rest of the team can more than handle this new find of yours."

Charles sighed, "Yes, I know. I just…find myself in new territory and it's so very unfamiliar." He sought her sapphire eyes, "I find myself loving a girl I've never met."

Ororo patted his hand, as the tea kettle announced its readiness, "We will get through this…" she stood and walked to the stove, "together."

Charles stared after her, a new thought rolling over all others.

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Irene paced the floor. _What should I do? _The phone kept going to voicemail. She felt as though she'd left hundreds of messages. _This is urgent – why is he not responding? _ She knew there was no way she would call Raven.

She slumped into her chair, and reluctantly dialed the number one more time.

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Rogue felt as if she was destroying the room searching for the elusive buzzing noise that had torn her from guilt-riddled anguish. All she wanted to do was cry until her friends came for her, but that noise had driven those thoughts away. She hunted high and low for the noise, checking the tv, fire alarms, the bathroom exhaust fan – nothing made sense. _Where is it coming from?_ _This is like trying to find a cricket in the house!_

Giving up, Rogue stood completely still, silent in the middle of the chaos and closed her eyes hoping to locate the sound. Taking a deep breath, she held it and waited.

_buzz buzz_

Opening her eyes, she turned. Her gaze fell to the bag she had taken earlier from Jon's room. She grabbed it up, placing the bag on the bed, and unzipped it slowly – as if she expected a snake to jump out at her. Rogue easily located the phone, the caller id showing, "C#153". _What could that be?_ Glancing at the prone figure on her floor, she took a deep breath, and hit the key necessary to answer the call.

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"Rogue."

Erik smirked to himself, _a king indeed._ All he needed was confirmation and then he would set his plan into motion. _What is taking so long?_ He had paid an enormous fee to begin with, but then upped it for the professional thief that his daughter had easily outwitted. _Perhaps I underestimate her…_ Of course, he only had what Irene had disclosed to him over the years about his daughter, but his assessment of her was naturally incomplete.

Waving his hand to himself, Erik dismissed the thought. He would take care of that minor detail once she was within his reach, in the same place as himself. Erik looked the clock, _he should have checked in by now._ He considered again that maybe he should have handled their daughter personally instead of sending a hired hand. Sadly, it was not an option. He had responsibilities in New York that needed to be handled – and until she was 'in hand'…

Erik strode to his desk, taking his seat behind the large desk. He picked up his phone and dialed.

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"Hello?"

No answer. Rogue looked the device. It was completely silent…dead. _What am I doing? I'm answering a dead man's phone like it's a normal Tuesday!_ She threw the phone down and sat on the bed. Rogue stared at the prostate man lying face-down near the door. _This is crazy!_ She felt out of control. Nothing had gone as planned. It was supposed to be simple – leave town for a couple of days or weeks until everything settled down with Irene and Mystique and then she could happily return to her life – with no one the wiser of her newfound mutant status.

Rogue sighed, running her slim pale fingers through her hair. _This is SO not how I planned this._ She hoped that Aby and Ryder would be able to help her – at the very least hold her hand when she had to eventually call the police. In her mind's eye, she could see it all so clearly – it was happening all over again…and there was nothing she could do to change it.

_buzz buzz_

Rogue gasped, jumping up. Eyeing the phone warily, she snatched it up – as if it might wake the dead man. She huffed a crazed laugh at the thought.

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Remy snuck a peek at the cards in his hands, knowing this round of poker belonged to him.

He was surprised to be on a winning streak all night, mainly because of the lack of cheating – not that he necessarily needed to cheat – he just enjoyed the practice…so to speak. He couldn't be more pleased at his current situation, however.

A server entered from behind him. She leaned over the player across from him to set down a fresh drink, glancing at Remy through her lashes before smiling playfully and turning to leave. He could not help but notice how familiar she seemed. He shrugged to himself, chuckling that he'd probably had spent a special night with her.

Frowning to himself, Remy tried to place her, feeling it was important…imperative somehow. He watched the redhead leave the poker room by the side door. Attempting to refocus on his cards, he couldn't contain the intense desire to follow her, to see that flirtatious smile and cause her to laugh. Anything to be near her.

Calling himself a lost cause, Remy quickly threw down his hand, and gathered up his winnings shoving them into his pockets. He grabbed his duster, throwing it on in one swift movement, and quickly followed through the same door.

He found himself in a dark alley. _What? Where am I? _ It occurred to Remy that he didn't even know how he'd arrived at the poker game. He tried to think of last thing he remembered, but there was nothing. He only knew right now, at this moment, he needed to get to the girl.

Remy looked up, seeing her silhouette amongst the shadows towards the end of the alleyway. He knew, somehow, someway the girl was important, necessary even…even if he could not remember why.

Remy ran as fast as he could down the alley, feeling his limbs grow heavy, but his need to get to her outweighed his sluggishness. The alley seemed to lengthen as he chased her shadow, but Remy _knew_ that it was urgent he get to her. He struggled to stay on his feet – she needed him to protect her. He could feel himself sliding to his knees, and try as he might, Remy could not find the energy required to carry on. As his face met the concrete, he held to the one thought that had caused him to give chase…

Something much worse was after her than she even knew.

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_buzz buzz_

_C#153 again….persistent. _Unable to stand it any longer, Rogue relented, answering the phone, "Hello?" She heard a gasp, but no spoken words. She tried again, "Hello?" No answer. She checked the phone. It was still connected. "Are you there? Hello?"

She could sounds in the background, familiar but unable to discern what they were. Then a _thud_, like the phone was dropped, until the phone beeped as the call was disconnected.

Rogue sat on the floor, phone clasped in her hands, facing the dead Jon. "Who keeps calling you? Who is C 153? And why in the world would you name someone that in your phone?" She kept staring as if he would wake up to answer her. She placed the phone in her lap, leaning forward on her elbows, chin in hands, and stared. _Nothing to do but wait for the cavalry now._

Staring at Jon, Rogue felt tears prick her eyes, and slide down her face. Throughout everything, she had tried to stay strong – to not give into these urges, to succumb to the self-pity. But it had finally just become too much for her to handle…at least keeping it bottled up. Rogue swiped her hand across her cheek, and whispered, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do it. I don't know how to…I can't control…"

_buzz buzz_

Rogue gaped at the phone. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me!" Without looking at the id, she answered the phone, "Hello?"

For a second, she thought they had hung up again, but then she heard, "Rogue?"

"Who is this?!"

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**First and foremost, I want to say that I _never_ intended to wait so long before returning. I plan on doing much better in the future until this fic is finished. Second, I will _never, never_ leave a fic unfinished…unless I am dead. Third, thank you to everyone who reviewed during my hiatus and continued to encourage me. I have been fearful to return, thinking that no one would want or care if I finished, but your reviews during that time have shown me differently.**

**Again, thank you for sticking with me! I hope you enjoy!**


	20. Minefield

**Minefield**

Remy tried with all his might to push himself to his feet, but could make it no further than his elbows. He pulled himself inch by inch, dragging his body across the pavement, down the alley. He ignored the pain, focusing on one thing only – getting to the girl. Why? He had not a clue, but he knew deep down that he had to get to her before…something. It was on the edges of consciousness, yet he couldn't remember just why – only that he must get to her, to save her.

He felt an overwhelming ache and weariness, down into his very bones, a tiredness he could not explain or justify. He stared down the length of the alley still able to make out the redhead's shadow along the bricks. _When did this alley get so long? Why can't I stand?_

He struggled to pull himself along the gravel, but it seemed as if gravity itself was working against him. Remy could not find the strength to even raise his own head. In fact, if he didn't know better, he'd swear that a giant hand seemed to be grinding his body into the pavement. The force seemed to be driving him straight the ground and under the earth itself. Gravel dug into his cheeks, Remy could feel blood oozing from the abrasions. He found it harder to breathe as the earth seemed to be sucking his body into the concrete.

He watched as his hand began to slowly sink into the ground. _No! It couldn't be! What the!_ It was almost like quicksand. Remy attempted to struggle anew, but it was useless. There was no escape. Unable to understand, he found he could not move, could only blink, and barely breathe. His arm was completely swallowed as he felt his entire body begin to be swallowed into the pavement. _The ground is swallowing me whole! What's going on?!_ For the first time since he'd entered the alley, Remy felt real fear…and not only for himself.

Remy gasped one last time as the darkness took him absolutely.

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Aby stared into cornflower blue eyes, sharing breath with one of her best friends on the side of the highway, and thought of everything she could say…but wouldn't. Ryder gazed back into wide hazelnut eyes. They really are windows into her soul…and he knew in that instant everything in her mind…in her heart, and he saw the moment when Aby's earth grounding logic made an appearance. She opened her mouth, but Ryder decided to take the lead.

Ryder leaned forward, nose almost touching hers and said softly, "Aby, we need to get moving again. There's little time to waste." Aby blinked in confusion, and sat up and away from one of her best friends.

She made a big show of straightening her clothes and brushing away invisible lint. "You're right. I got carried away." She turned and smiled, all while not looking him in the eye, "Let's get this show on the road." Aby cleared her throat and stared straight ahead at the empty highway.

Ryder sighed, unbuckled his seatbelt, and slid across the bench seat, his eyes never leaving Aby's solemn face. He took her gently by the chin, turned her face towards his, even as she refused to look up. "Abs, do not get me wrong. I want to talk about this. I want to kiss you. Period." Shocked brown orbs met sincere blues. "I want to…heck, I need to hold you…but we need to help Rogue. And we should talk to her first before we do or say something …pretty much like I just said." Staring into Aby's soul, Ryder whispered softly, "Aw crap…"

Then he kissed her.

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Logan had long since finished his burger, now he waited on the half-pint to finish hers. He watched and half listened as she jabbered on about the boys and various methods of revenge, even though he knew that Ororo had put them through the ringer in the danger room that afternoon. He knew that he should be hitting the road again to Mississippi to find Charles' daughter, but right now was just as important. Logan knew what he had to do to protect these kids now, and nothing short of death would stop him. They were mere cubs, and he their guardian. He now knew what had to be done, who he had to protect, and who would suffer for his choices. Heck, he grinned, even death might not stop him.

Kitty stopped to question, "Why ya grinning, Mr. Logan?"

"Because I've got an idea…" then Logan leaned over, cupping his hand to his mouth, whispering conspiratorially, "and that's how you teach them a lesson, I'm your man…if you need the help."

Kitty's head tilted considering the whispered details, as she took in his expression. He wagged his eyebrows for the full collaborator affect. A smile formed on her lips. She wiped her mouth, and answered, "I'll have to remember that. Let's head home!"

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Remy felt as though he was floating on a cloud, albeit a hard cloud. Sure it was comfy enough, but harder than he'd ever imagined a cloud could be. _Should be more like a marshmallow… so…this is death. Quieter than I thought I'd be in for._

Then suddenly something poked him. _What the?!_ And again. Something poked him again. Then that something giggled. It sounded heavenly. But was it an angel or the demons poking him?

"Oh, Etienne…" the angel sing-songed, "Are you sleeping?" Another poke, this time harder.

"Wake up and play." Two quick pokes, more insistent. "Come on, quit playing possum and decide!"

Wait, I know that voice. Remy struggled to open his eyes as he was poked once more. "That's it Etienne, open those pretty flaming eyes for me."

Opening his lids, he blinked the blurriness away to see indeed an angel sitting across from him on a bed, cards spread between them. Suddenly a milky white leg shot across the space separating them to poke his naked torso again with a bare toe. He caught her ankle quickly with his bare hand. The angel giggled again. She was dressed simply in a short sleeve tee and shorts, with beautiful alabaster skin exposed for miles.

Remy smiled, but was a bit confused asking, "Rogue, what are you doing here?"

She tucked a stray scarlet wisp behind her ear, and laughed, "Playing go fish, you?"

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Rogue gasped as she heard her name spoken by the man on the other end of the phone line. "Who is this?!" she demanded, only to hear a loud laugh crackle.

"And on the Cajun's phone too. Priceless. Of course he'd lose you and his phone. Do you have his wallet too?" The cold query was followed by more boisterous laughter.

_What is so funny? Who is this?_ "Who are you? How do you know me?" Rogue stood, walking away from the unconscious 'Jon' to the window, looking around for any sign of danger.

"Don't worry about who I am. I'm gonna be the one collecting the big fat wad of cash from your daddy-that's who I am! I'm the one who's gonna bring you on home – one way or another." More laughter followed the grim declaration.

"What?! My Daddy? Who is that?" Rogue grasped the phone so tightly she feared it'd break in her hands, dying to know who the rough voice was talking about.

"Don't you worry your sweet head none. Just keep talking…Heck, keep running. I _love _a good chase…and unlike the Cajun I ain't gonna have no problem finding ya and keeping ya."

Rogue gulped, and pressed the 'end' button forcibly. Rogue shook with fear. She instantly checked the caller id on the last call, but the only thing listed were two letters.

"V.C."

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Raven walked into the room to find Sabertooth hanging up his phone. "Who was that? Making other arrangements for tonight perhaps?"

Victor growled at Mystique for nosing into his business, but answered, "Gotta check in with the Boss occasionally unlike some people." Giving her an appraising look, "You should check in with Boss-man soon, girly."

Mystique flipped her hair over one shoulder announcing, "I like being my own boss."

"Whatever," he waved to her as he opened the door, "your funeral."

Raven hurried over to the hotel phone to call her voicemail to discover who'd been calling her so intently earlier before Sabertooth had so kindly broken her phone, all the while hoping that Magneto was not interfering with her plans.

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Victor paused outside the door, listening as she dialed the phone. It didn't matter who she called, they wouldn't stop him. _I'm an unstoppable force._ He checked his watch and laughed. He had plenty of time to get to Daddy's little girl. _And maybe even when I get there….some time for some_ extra_ fun…_

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As they enjoyed the tea, Charles looked longingly into Ororo's brilliant sapphire eyes, so long and intently that she questioned, "What is it, Professor?"

He took a deep breath, finally deciding something and feeling an unraveling within his soul, "Ororo, I want…no, need to tell you something – to be completely honest with you; which I have not been, at least not thoroughly." He reached for her hand, taking it within his.

Ororo maintained the confused expression, but allowed Charles to take her hand and continue unburdening himself.

Charles swallowed several times, "I feel … quite…immensely for you, my dear. That is to say, you mean so very much to me and are quite dear to my heart." At her surprised expression, he forged on, "However, whatever we could be or might be one day, for right now I need to focus on my daughter…although I would _very_ much like to find out what this may be between us – especially if you feel the same." He held his hand up to pause her response, "Granting, I'd completely understand if you felt that you could not wait for me to work through everything with my daughter. I would only want _your _happiness – even if it should not be with me." He ended staring down at the table.

Ororo smiled softly to herself, reaching out, she tilted his chin to look once again into his eyes. "Profess…Charles," she smiled shyly, blushing slightly, "I feel that _'something' _between us as well, and I would very much like to explore it … at a more appropriate time. I know that this," she waved her hand around, "is a tumultuous situation and I do not wish to add a further distraction."

Holding her hand up to stall him now, she smiled brilliantly, adding, "Not to say that I do not wish to be a distraction at a later date."

Bringing her hand to his lips, he agreed, "I, too, would very much enjoy said distraction."

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Rogue stood staring down at the dead man…Jon or whoever he was. "You knew who my Father is? What else do you know about me?!" She stomped the floor, wanting to kick the dead man, but knew there was no point. _You don't kick a dead horse._ She thought about calling the number back, but knew very well that was also a bad idea. _This is so crazy! What is going on?! _

Rogue groaned. She was beyond frustrated – far from those she trusted, locked in a room with a man she killed with her own hands but could not remember killing, and no one to rely on or confide in. The adrenaline that had kept her moving was long gone and frankly Rogue was ready to give up and head home. She slid down the wall, knees under her chin, across from the dead Jon. _I can't keep this up._ _How many more are chasing after me?_

Somewhere deep down inside Rogue felt as if she'd survived far worse things than this, and she drew a deep breath and tried focusing on that feeling. Without her knowledge, her eyes had gone white as she drew on Ororo's strength and memories. She suddenly remembered feeling little and abused, and that one day she had been freed. Rogue felt if she could survive those terrible things, she could survive anything. Somehow she knew that these were not her memories, but they were real enough to give her the needed push to go on. Rogue quickly tore the phone in her hands apart, ensuring that someone could not track her using Jon's phone. _Let them come for me! I survived worse than this – I've fought for my freedom before and I shall have it again._

Using that fire, Rogue focused anew on what she could control. She had left everything and everyone she loved… _This is_ my_ life. I decide._ She stood up, walked over to the prostrate body, and gave it a swift kick. _No one is going decide for me. I decide. Now I decide that I fight back. _She walked back to the bag on her bed and tossed the bits of phone inside. Turning she stared into the mirror, then down at her hands. _They are weapons. Time for me to use them. _Looking back in the mirror was new person – afraid of what might come, but firm and ready to take on the coming battle.

However, if she intended to fight back, first she'd need ammunition….more than she currently possessed. She began to give serious thought to her 'powers' that had magically appeared - exactly what they were and how they worked.

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"Rogue?" coughed Remy, then he noticed his grip on her bare ankle. He quickly released it. _What is going on here? What am _I _doing here? I have a job to do._

"Oh of course, you do, and you'll do it….just probably not how you thought you would." Rogue poked his naked chest again with her foot. Remy jumped off the bed halfway across the room. _Why am I half dressed? _

"Did you just read my mind?!"

Rogue smiled simply, "Well, it was strip go fish," she laughed, "and no, Etienne, I didn't read your mind and I'm not Rogue – not really. I'm really just here to help you pass the time until you wake up and save me….well, Rogue, that is."

Remy shook his head as if to dispel whatever was happening. _This can't be real. I was just in the hotel room …or was it an alley…or a card game? No, no, no, no, no, what is happ….I'm losing my mind!_

"You're not."

He picked up a pen from the nearby table and attempted to charge it, merely to scare his apparition; but found he was unable to do so.

"You can't do that here."

Eyes wide, Remy stared at the spirit that appeared to be enjoying teasing him. "What is _here_?!"

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Irene heard the thud as her phone hit the ground. She could still hear Rogue talking from the speaker. _What happened? Why does Rogue have Gambit's phone? What went wrong?_ Fear coursed through her body. Had Rogue unintentionally taken Gambit out? Did Gambit beat Raven to Rogue? Irene closed her eyes, titling her head back, as a tear slipped from under the lid. She gripped the arm of the chair, digging her nails in. She desperately tried to force a vision – any vision to see her Rogue and what was happening.

Rogue had sent the plan into a tailspin when she ran. Irene could only see pieces…possibilities. _This_ was not something she'd seen coming. _This _could ruin the entire plan. Irene fell to the floor, searching for her phone. She had to make the call now…before it was too late.

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He caught her hand to keep her from knocking on the door. She wouldn't look at him. He sighed, "We need to talk."

Facing Ryder, "No, no we do not. We _may or may not_ have a best friend in mortal danger who _may or may not_ have killed someone," taking a deep breath Aby continued. "That, well…that was a mistake and we need to focus on Rogue and not on whatever that was, ok?"

Ryder felt lost in pools of chocolate as she stared at him. "We good, Rye?"

He nodded, and felt anything but good. Aby knocked on the door.

Abby continued knocking while Ryder continued to stare at her. Closing her eyes and inhaling deeply, she turned and looked up at him, "Say it."

He looked hurt, and she figured he probably was since they hadn't said a word to one another since the kiss in the truck. "It was not a mistake. That's all I wanted to say." He then took over her knocking on the door and called out, "Rogue! It's us, answer already."

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"Etienne, you need to calm down. You _know_ where 'here' is. You even know how you got here." Rogue pursed her lips, "Well, this isn't working out at all like we planned…"

"We?!", Remy choked out, "What do you mean 'we'?"

She walked away from him and sat on the bed tossing their cards towards the trash can. "Etienne, I _am_ you. _This_ is all you. Think!"

Feeling oddly attacked, Remy slumped into the chair behind him. "I don't know what you're talking about," then exploded up, stomping over to Rogue, "And why are you holding me here?! I didn't hurt you. I wasn't going to…"

She glanced up at him almost shyly, "I'm not holding you. You are holding you….well, sorta, at least. I know that we weren't going to hurt Rogue." She turned on the bed, swinging her legs off the bed, feigning a thoughtful look, "Etienne, if you'd just slow down and think you'll remember what happened. You _know_ deep down what happened and honestly, you must know why it happened."

"Wha?"

Remy tried to remember, and in a flash, he could see the rage on Rogue's face, the lightening shoot from her fingertips, and the blinding pain as he was slammed into the wall- and then it clicked. He had put the syringe into his back pocket, "I must have shot myself when you slammed me into the wall…. Hey! You hit me with lightening," rubbing his chin, he muttered to himself, "Somehow I feel someone should have warned me about that."

"Pfft." Rogue brushed the incident off, "She can hardly be blamed. She was terrified. Besides, we've survived much worse." She waved her hands, "Etienne, just relax." She paused, tapping her chin with a card, "Let me ask you something though, have we ever done something didn't involve a payday? Done something because it was the right thing to do or just to help someone else…never expecting anything in return? Don't we want that? Don't we want to be the good guy?"

Remy respondly coldly, "I'm not a 'bad guy'. I'm just doing my job. I'm not a monster. I'm only taking you back to you Mother, she's worried sick about you. She only wants to protect you. She keeps calling me for Pete's sake. I'm not an animal. I'd never take you to Magneto. He's evil."

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Raven listened intently to the voicemail. She frowned, thinking all of this had already been handled. She didn't have time to deal with this nonsense when there was so much more at stake. They were ruining all her plans! Raven had worked so carefully to make sure everything lined up from point A to point Raven gets everything she ever wants.

She knew good and well that Victor was on his way to steal back the girl. She'd made a serious mistake running – almost ruining the plans she and Irene had made, but there was so much more beyond those plans. So much more than Magneto's paltry crusade. No, her purpose was higher, bigger, and in the end, she would have everything she ever desired. In the meantime, however, she huffed and dialed the phone number she least desired.

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Through the fog of her thoughts, Ryder's voice finally broke. "Rogue, open up already! I've been driving all night and I'm tired."

Rogue rushed to the door, looked through the peephole finding her two best friends, but hesitated in opening the door. "Aby?"

"Yeah Rogue, I'm here too."

Aby sounded tired to Rogue's ears, but so was she. So much had happened, Rogue winced, "I'm sorry in advance, but I'm gonna need you to prove it's actually you."

Aby threw up her hands in exasperation, "Just how do I do that Rogue?" She was tired, irritable, and just plain confused by everything happening between herself and Ryder and now she needed to prove she was who she is. She sighed. Aby seriously just wanted to bury this body and take a nap.

"Tell me something only you and I would know," came the voice through the door.

Searching her memory, Aby replied, "Uh, when you first came, you were totally in love with Ryder."

Ryder caught completely off guard choked, "Huh? What? Love?"

Aby waved a hand at him, "Yeah, yeah, she loved you. Get over it."

"I wish I'd known. Women are throwing themselves at me lately…" Ryder cut off his mumblings noticing the glare Aby was directing at him. He huffed, "I'm just saying, it _would have been_ nice to know!"

Rogue smiled in spite of herself.

Aby turned full force on Ryder, "Your turn, _chick magnet_."

Scratching his neck, Ryder answered, "Ah, well apparently my two best friends keep secrets from me."

Rogue retorted beyond the door, "It's gotta be something only _you_ and I would know. Not something I already know."

Ryder ran his hand through his blond hair, sighing, "Ok, but _no one_ is gonna like this," taking a deep breath he continued, "You hated Aby when you first met her because you thought she was stuck up."

Aby gasped, "Seriously! That's what you come up with?!"

"Yeah, it's like the only thing I never told you…"

"And you choose _now_ to say it…"

"Well _YEAH! _ I had to prove I'm me…"

"I hate you!"

"No you don't."

"Yes, yes I do."

"No, you really don't." Both of the arguers turned at the sound of the new voice. "Rogue!" they exclaimed. Rogue stepped into the hallway and found herself wrapped in the best friend hug. Suddenly she felt relieved, _with these two here, we can survive anything._

"Now stop arguing over stupid stuff that doesn't matter anymore and let's deal with this dead body." Aby took charge like usual, pushing her way into the room, taking in the mess right inside the door. Ryder shrugged following with Rogue closing the door behind them.

Ryder turned to Rogue, "You know it's great to see you and everything, I mean, we would have come if you'd invited us; but you didn't have to kill someone to make that happen."

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Scott had lost track of how long he'd been sitting on the front steps of the institute. Others had tried to get him to come inside for dinner, but still he sat, long after the sun had retreated behind the horizon. Yet he continued to sit on the steps, telling everyone he was waiting for Kitty and Logan so that he could apologize and make it up to her somehow. He knew he needed to apologize to Kitty for his absent-mindedness. He had never intended to leave her; he was only preoccupied with thoughts that continued to revolve around a rogue mutant.

He couldn't help himself…because honestly, he didn't want to. Scott was beginning to believe he was spelled. His mind kept returning to the girl with scarlet hair who'd given him a sprained ankle and even caused him to forget about Kitty-a member of his team. Scott wanted to know more about this girl. He wanted to see her again, to talk with her – convince her that _they_ were the good guys. Scott did not understand what happened at the cemetery; it seemed as if she knew who they were, and if that was the case why she was was so scared.

He wanted to see the girl unafraid, even trusting him. _No, the team!_ He refused to admit even to himself that _he_ wanted to be the one that was responsible for those changes…not the team.

_I can't believe it. I can't get her out of my head._ All he could see in his mind's eye was the fear on her face when she saw him. Scott sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

_What is she afraid of? Why did she run from us? Is it something Mystique did or told her? Is that why she's scared of us? And what else does she know? Is there something that we should be afraid of?_

All sorts of questions ran through his mind along with a healthy dose of guilt. He felt responsible for not protecting the team better as a leader should. Although he was new to leading the X-men on such missions, Scott still felt discouraged and vowed to do more and be better the next time they met the rogue. And deep down, he knew they would face her again one day…soon.

Scott's inner ramblings were interrupted as he saw a vehicle enter the gates and roar down the drive. _It's Logan. Time to face the Kitty music…again._ _Hopefully it won't include an unscheduled stop in the danger room. _ Scott sighed and stood, pulling himself to his full adolescent height, ready to face whatever the vicious Wolverine and sweet Shadowcat had in store for him.

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Rogue and Aby sat together on the bed as Rogue started to tell how a dead man ended up in her room. Ryder, on the other hand, stood by the door, staring at the dead man.

"And honestly, I don't remember what happened, one second I answered the door, and the next I'm talking to you about how I think I killed someone!" Aby hugged Rogue when she finished. She had known Rogue was in trouble, but how much so was only just becoming clear.

She glanced over to Ryder who still hadn't moved from his spot. "Ry, are you ok?"

Not getting an answer, the girls looked at one another, "Maybe he's in shock?" Rogue whispered, "I mean, who wouldn't be?"

Aby just watched Ryder as he stared. It was almost like he was trying to solve a puzzle. "Maybe he's trying to figure out a way to get rid of the body?"

The silence was beginning to become overwhelming when Ryder finally spoke, never talking his eyes off the still man, "Did y'all happen to notice the dead guy is breathing?"

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Unbeknownst to Scott, a small group had gathered at the front bay window to watch the upcoming confrontation between the three in the driveway. Kurt whispered to Jean, "I bet Wolverine whoops him right there on the front step." Jean responded with a huff of air. Even Charles and Ororo shared a look between them.

Kitty bounded up to the stairs and greeted Scott cheerily, "Hey Scott, what's going on?" She easily spied those standing at the window, staring curiously down.

Scott shuffled uneasily, staring at his shoe, "Um Kitty," he began, then looked Kitty right in the eyes, "I am sorry about today. I was preoccupied, but that's inexcusable for the leader of the X-men. I realize that anything could have happened….especially now that Mystique's in town."

Ororo and Charles glanced quickly at each other, with Ororo questioning, "How'd he know?"

Kitty's mouth formed an "O". Logan ambled up next to her, "Hey, Boy-scout? Forget something?"

Kitty turned swiftly and punched Logan on the arm. "Hey Kid, that hurt." Logan rubbed his upper arm as if the Half-pint had done actual damage to the Wolverine.

Kitty responded, "Mr. Logan, is that why you came for me? Because Mystique is in town?"

Logan raised an eyebrow towards Scott, who surprisingly stood his ground. Rubbing the back of his neck, he answered, "Well yeah Kid. I know you could take her with those massive punches, but I worry." He attempted to smile at the end of the statement.

Kitty covered her giggle with her hand, then bounced up to kiss Logan's cheek. "Thanks, Mr. Logan…for everything today." Turning to Scott, she said, "See ya, I got some studying to do."

Scott and Logan watched her enter the mansion. Then before Scott could utter a syllable, Logan started, "You've gotta do better. Period. I won't be here forever…well, maybe. I don't know, but the thing is Kid, you're gonna have to step up. You are the leader of the X-men. Danger room sessions double up when I get back. No complaining. No going AWOL. No excuses. Got it, Bub?"

Scott never blinked, not that Logan would have seen it behind the ruby quartz glasses. "Yes sir. I look forward to the training."

Logan grumped, but accepted his words. _Training…more like survival._

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"WHAT?! What do you mean the dead guy is breathing?"

Ryder finally looked up at Aby, "Um, I'm not sure how to be more clear. The dead guy is not dead, although clearly, you kinda beat the crap outta him. He's breathing, like in and out – it's like how people breath. I mean, how do you describe breathing, people?" he motioned to the body, "Look, it's slight, but it's there. Rogue, did you even check his pulse?"

Rogue turned beet red, "No, I was um…too busy freaking out. Sorry."

Aby had come to stand next to Ryder, looking down on Jon, "Awesome. Now we don't have to bury anybody."

Ryder peered over Aby's head to catch Rogue's eyes, "Always did say she could find the silver lining in anything."

Aby shrugged, "Yeah well, we still have work to do. First, we need to get this place cleaned up. Second, figure out who this guy is and what he wants with Rogue. And third, we need to get the crap outta Dodge. Ry, check his pockets…"

"I already did that," interrupted Rogue. "There wasn't much there besides his room key. I've been there, done that, took everything. Here's his bag." They approached the bed where Rogue pulled out Jon's duffel and emptied it onto the mattress. Aby pulled out a deck of cards, going through each one meticulously. They all went through the items, finding numerous ids but none named 'Jon'. "What a mess I've made."

Aby tapped a playing card on her chin, "Alright, dead Jon's not dead, but he still could be dangerous. Let's get him up on the bed and make sure he's not going anywhere anytime soon. I've got questions, don't y'all?"

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Rogue seemed to appear right in front of him, kneeling, hands on his knees – bare hands. "No, you're not. Not a bad guy or an animal. Not yet, at least, but we need to be careful, Etienne."

Rogue slowly stood, as if trying to decide how to handle the nervous man before her. With her hands raised palms forward, she softly whispered, "Listen to me carefully…Etienne, are you listening?"

Remy nodded.

"No. Answer me. Are you listening?"

"Yes, I'm listening." Remy was shaking.

Rogue tilted her head at him, and frowned, "No, I don't think you are, but you will."

Then she slapped him.

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Remy slowly became aware of his surroundings. First, feeling returned to his limbs. He could feel himself on a soft surface, which he decided must be a bed. His body was sore, and he could feel bruises, scratches, and burns all over his body. _Again…I really feel someone should have warned me about that..._ Second, he could feel his hands were tied as well as his feet. Third, and most disappointing, he was unable to move.

Gradually the other senses returned to his body. At first, it was only a slight mummer, but then he realized that people were in the same room holding a very serious conversation. After a bit, he could hear clearly that there were three people, two girls and a guy; and the discussion was very intense. It was Magneto's daughter he'd been sent for telling the other two – from what he could distinguish – everything.

He could feel his aches slowly fading away as his body was slowly healing, but his kinetic powers had yet to return. _Le Dieu help them when they do… _In the meantime, Remy relaxed and listened to the story the redhead wove.

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"So after we get back to the house, Mystique and Irene tell me about my condition – the cause, what happens when I do touch someone, what the X-men want, their plans, and of course Mystique's plan." Rogue ended on a sour note.

Aby stared down at the gloved hand she was holding. "I'm not sure I understand what you're trying to tell us, Rogue. It seems so inconceivable." Ryder looked between both girls.

Rogue sighed, trying to pull free from Aby's grasp to no avail. Aby simply tightened her grip. "I _know_ it's unbelievable! And it happened to me. I keep wishing and hoping to wake up from this nightmare! But one thing makes it true, and when I tell you – I just want you two to know that I love you both and I'm still _me_ – no matter what!" Rogue looked to both her best friends.

Ryder sat forward in his chair, "Rogue, we came tonight to help you bury a body. We are gonna be your friends – _no matter what_." Glancing towards the bed, he motioned to 'Jon', "And apparently later we're all planning an interrogation. So…tell us the truth, that's all you ever have to tell us. We'll believe or at least try because honestly, this seems so sci-fi right now."

Aby joined in, "True. It seems far-fetched, but we heard about Cody, and that's exactly the same story you told. These X-men and Mystique… I…We trust you, Rogue. Just go ahead and tell us everything – all of it."

Rogue cleared her throat, "Ok, I guess the first thing I'll tell you is first answer I got from Irene."

Aby covered Rogue's hand, "What was the question?"

"I asked why all of that stuff happened to me."

Ryder questioned, "And her answer?"

"So, here's the deal - no sugar coating: I'm a mutant."

"Ok?"

Rogue waited, staring blankly at her friends.

"It's ok, we understand."

"How could you?"

Her two best friends shared a look, only to face Rogue and shrug simultaneously as if this were a common everyday occurrence.

"Because we're mutants too."

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**Thank you to everyone who reviewed, read, favorited, followed, and enjoyed my story. It means SO very much to me that you are enjoying my work. I apologize that it has taken so long to update. I hope in the future it will be different, but I cannot promise that. Just remember, I'll never leave the story unfinished...ever.**


	21. Twenty Questions

**Twenty Questions**

Remy rolled his eyes – internally, as moving was not yet an option. He could not believe his luck: he was stuck, bound, and paralyzed in a room with three mutants. One who shoots lightening – _Again, something that someone should have warned me about – _and two others who appeared to be there to bury his body. Remy wondered how a simple snatch and grab became his kidnapping.

Something hinted at him from the tendrils of his memory. There were clearly reasons why he felt the way he did. Now he just had to remember…Remy pushed himself to focus on what he could pull from the lucid dream he knew the drugs would have given him.

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"What do you mean you're mutants?"

Ryder gawked at Abygail as if she grown another head. She rolled her eyes at Rogue, "Rachelle, I'm saying we all feel like _mutants_, outcasts, aliens in a strange land. Heck, I feel that way in my own home! I'm saying just tell us the truth – you're a terrible liar anyway. We'll still love you and support you." She finished by gesturing to the prone man on the bed not three feet away.

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Irene listened to the ringing on the opposite end of the line. She worried her fingernails waiting for him to pick up. When she heard his deep voice, she almost sobbed aloud. In her mind, he was the savior, the solution, and he would fix this gigantic mess.

_It's now or never..._

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Raven dialed the phone again and quickly made arrangements. There was no longer any time left to waste. She had dillydallied around long enough. She showered, packed what little she had with her, grabbed her laptop, and headed out the door.

As far as Victor was concerned, she'd deal with him at a later time.

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Scott had apologized, but for Logan, nothing had changed. Training would increase, and for Scott, his leadership qualifications would definitely be in question for a considerable while. He knew that he needed to teach the boy-scout survival skills necessary for this coming war. While Logan didn't know what Mystique was planning, he was absolutely sure it involved Chuck's good friend, Magneto – which spelled nothing but trouble.

The wolverine whined demanding some fresh blood, but Logan knew it was best to wait until morning. Five or ten minutes would recharge the man, but he also needed time to fully contemplate his next move. Going against Chuck's wishes was not typically how Logan behaved, besides the natural drinking and smoking that the Professor didn't allow on campus.

With a good night's rest, Logan was sure he would be able to prove to Chuck how the rogue needed to be handled – the Professor's daughter or not. _We ain't even sure if the kid is even his…_

Logan shook his head and started towards his room. Frankly, the whole thing with the rogue possibly being Chuck's daughter, the 'saving' of Kitty, subsequent bonding with the Half-pint, and talk with Scott had left Logan oddly emotionally drained. It was not a feeling to which he was accustomed. He needed to finish this.

Also, he needed to kill Mystique. The wolverine smiled.

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Remy listened intently as the package, he now knew was named 'Rachelle', nicknamed 'Rogue' thoroughly explained the recent events to her friends – who to his secret relief were not actually mutants. He heard the surprised reactions from the two and their quick and strangely complete acceptance of the girl.

He wished everyone felt that way towards mutants, or at least could be that accepting. As the time slowly dragged by, Remy noticed that he could move once again – just a bit, such as wiggling his toes and fingers and facial movements. Soon he would be able to charge the bindings and be free.

Slowly, he opened his eyes.

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Aby had, surprisingly, held tight to Rogue's hand while she relayed the entire story. Rogue left nothing out – including the way she felt once she'd touched Cody, the attacking badger, her conversation with the blue lemur, what seemed to have happened when she touched him and the white-haired woman, what Mystique's power was, and why she had decided to run whether than be moved to New York.

She explained the teleporting between the cemetery and church, the rooms in the hotel, and the lightning strikes; even including the strange memories that came with it all. She briefed her best friends on what she assumed her ability did to people and the ultimate reason for the gloves. When she finished, she sat back and waited.

Ryder was the first to speak up, "Ok, so clearly I've fallen asleep at the wheel of the truck and Aby, honey, I think we've crashed. I'm obviously dead."

Aby turned to stare open-mouth at him. "No, no I mean it. I'm dead." He stood up, pacing to the door and back. "Because I'd have to be dead in order for Rogue to think that I would love her less or not want to be her friend because she has suddenly developed super-powers. I mean you guys know how much I wanted to be Spiderman."

Rogue, shocked, burst into laughter.

Abygail, unable to help herself, joined Rogue giggling. Ryder returned to his seat, and once the girls got the necessary tension breaker out of their systems requested, "Show us something. It's inconceivable."

Rogue thought for a moment, while unbeknownst to her Remy was praying for a lack of lightening. "I suppose I could touch you. I know I didn't kill Cody, but I did kill two other people. I'm not sure how much is too much."

Aby tilted her head at the statement, "How do we know you killed them, Rogue?"

She answered quickly, "Because Irene and Mystiq….Oh."

"I'm guessing you didn't kill anyone. You just aren't capable. I didn't even think you'd murdered someone tonight…even though we came running to help hide the body. Man, are we gonna laugh about that years from now." Ryder went on, "I think Mystique just told you that in an effort to control you. Shows how well she knows you – which is not at all. Unless I'm throwing you over my shoulder for a Route 44, you hate being pushed around. Speaking of, unless I'm getting some caffeine soon, I need some sleep."

Aby punched his arm, "I knew you were smart….all those years…"

Ryder pshawed, "Seriously I'm exhausted. I know you're exhausted," gesturing to Rogue. "We need rest and subsistence." He looked to the guy on the bed, "That guy's tied up. He's not going anywhere. Let's get some rest."

"Genius, he's on the bed. Plus we still need to interrogate him."

He waved at Aby, "I'm gonna crash in his room. Y'all do whatever."

Rogue stood, "He's right. We're all tired. Why don't y'all go to his room and sack out. I'll stay here and keep watch. I'll call if he wakes up."

Abygail stood as well, with her hands on her hips, ready to argue the point when Ryder sighed deeply. He ran his hand through his hair, "No need. He's awake," as the two men stared at one another.

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Once back in the air, Mystique made the call. "You need to get the dog on a leash. He's gone after your daughter. Good luck with that." She smiled as pushed 'end'. It gave her complete satisfaction to not allow him to get a word in edgewise but to also put Magneto's plans into a tailspin. Mystique knew good and well that Magneto would never send Sabertooth after Rogue. The beast was all about destruction, there was no such thing as finesse. It wasn't even in the man's vocabulary. He would kill the girl and ruin all of Erik's plans. Naturally that would also ruin _her_ plans, which is why after a couple of hours had passed she had actually called him to warn of the dog attempting to get the bounty on Rogue's head.

_Nothing wrong in giving him a head start. _Mystique decided that the fear of death would be a good thing for Rogue. It seemed to have worked so well the first time, after all. _Besides, _Mystique chuckled, _if she does die, Erik will be so distraught. He'll be easy to maneuver then._

She relaxed in her seat and considered an entirely new plan…one no longer requiring Rogue…_maybe not even Irene._

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Remy figured it was probably best at this juncture to allow the kiddies to 'interrogate' him. Ultimately, he'd find out so much more with their questions than his own. Stuck on his back, the only one in his field of vision was the blond male when suddenly the brunette with long curls leaned over the bed, pushing the blond aside. She looked confused to Remy.

"Where's his red eyes?"

Rogue rushed over and peered down. Emerald eyes met mahogany. She quickly faced Aby, "Aby, I'm not lying."

Abygail waved her hand, "Of course not. Why lie about his eye color out of this whole sordid mess?" She turned her question to the man, "So _Jon,_ where are your red eyes?"

Remy almost laughed…almost. They wanted to cross-examine Rogue's would-be kidnapper and this was the question they begin with. Remy actually considered his answer for a moment; however, he had always wondered what his true eye color was and now was his chance – a result from the power paralytic.

"What color are they now?" He smiled, hoping his charm would soon kick in.

Rogue answered, "Brown. But they were red." She moved closer to her friends.

Aby held up the syringe they'd found after moving him to the bed. "Is this why they're no longer red?" Remy stared back at her. This inquiry was not going the way he wanted. Aby shook the needle, waiting.

Remy sighed. This was not going to be easy; of course he'd known that all along. He decided to take a different route towards freedom. "Gosses, look, if you'll just untie me, I'll tell you everything you want to know." He wagged his eyebrows in effort to appear non-threatening, and prayed it worked.

Aby tilted her head considering this. Ryder interjected, "I have a better idea." Before she could react, he tore off Rogue's glove, and shoved the bare hand onto the thief's exposed arm.

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The plane touched down in the field far from prying eyes. Maintaining her principal persona, she exited and headed for the waiting limo. She knew that none of the X-men had made it into the state. For some reason they were not coming for this new mutant at all, according to her sources. Apparently they had other concerns. She frowned feeling one of those could be the black case Wolverine had stolen from her plane. She growled, knowing she'd deal with him later – in a most heinous way, and looking forward to it.

This new mutant – she had been told was quite powerful – was all hers for the picking. No meddling X-kids to interfere. No unplanned surprises. It was just a quick trip to grab and go – just how she liked it. She just had to show up and offer him more than he was currently getting – which wasn't really much. Mystique smiled as she was driven into town and the loud monster truck show. The poor kid really didn't have anything now, and she'd be offering him a chance to stand with her on winning team, a prince in the coming battles. She knew her new plan would succeed far greater and faster than the one that so desperately required Rogue and Irene. She was completely fine with subtracting the two from the plan, and possibly the face of the earth.

_And those two would never really know what hit them._

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Rogue wrenched her arm away from Ryder. She struck him hard on the bicep and began shouting. Remy who had already been weakened, lay unconscious from Rogue's touch. Abygail glared at Ryder, "What were you thinking?!"

"I was thinking we didn't have time for this. She mentioned she had gained some of their memories…" he shrugged.

Rogue became louder and paced as her two friends just gaped at her. Finally Aby could take no more, "Rogue, stop!"

She turned, shooting draggers at her friends, Aby dropped onto the bed, "Sweetie, I have no idea what you're saying."

Rogue threw up her hands in exasperation and muttered a few more choice words, looking terribly confused. Ryder held his hands up in surrender, "Dude, I only had one year of French."

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Irene hung up the phone, hanging her head, her relief palpable. Believing that Rogue would not contact her again, she'd done the only thing she thought would help. The only thing she believed could stop Mystique: she'd contacted the one man she had sworn never to call for help. She promised herself she'd never be so weak again as to need him. But things were different now, and there was Rogue to think about.

Irene knew she wasn't out there alone. Gambit had promised to bring her home, but he had not been answering her calls. She was hoping that he was too close to Rogue to return those calls currently, but just in case…she'd made the decision.

Sitting at home alone in the dark, blind to the events unfolding Irene had succumb to the thoughts echoing inside her mind. The thought that Rogue could be in more danger than she knew – not fully aware of her potential, not knowing how much would be too much, unaware of when to truly let go. Rogue's power was explosive, a force, inside of a girl who had been too sheltered for too long. Herself a force to be reckoned with.

Irene was aware of her failure – as a mentor, as a teacher, but most of all as a mother. For those reasons, she'd reached out and phoned him for the first time in years. In truth, Irene legitimately believed that he would rage against her, call her on her many lies, and slam the receiver down. She had truly underestimated him. Sighing, she realized she had not anticipated that he would be so accepting, so forgiving, and so ready to come to her aid. He was her last viable option.

Surprisingly, he'd had no questions, no cross-examination; just one request, and with her agreement he would arrive on her doorstep the very next day. He would honestly be her savior. She had readily agreed, not sure how it all work out, but trusting him to handle it as delicately as necessary.

Irene now knew that Mystique was far from the answer to the situation that she and Rogue had found themselves. In fact, Mystique was the _cause_ of the dilemma; and he would be their solution. He had informed her that he'd leave as soon as he was able, needing to tie up some loose ends. Irene calculated a three hour flight, meaning he'd arrive by tomorrow afternoon.

She felt more relaxed, knowing he'd be at her side tomorrow. In fact, his soothing voice had calmed her pounding heart. It had always been like that between them. He was a salve for her turbulent feelings. His timbre reverberated in her thoughts, "Irene, all I desire is a face to face with our daughter."

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"Try thinking English," Aby offered helpfully. Rogue bit her lip and appeared to be concentrating extremely hard.

"Seriously, if she thinks any harder, her brain is gonna explode."

Aby moved to cuff him, but Ryder jumped out of range, "Naw man, no more beating up the punching bag. I'm gonna have a bruise from Tyson over there. I swear she punched with the force of ten guys earlier." He appeared so serious that Aby grabbed his arm, rolled up his sleeve, and found a bruise already forming.

"Rogue!"

"Que?" Rogue approached, and once she saw the injury, words began tumbling out, "Oh my gosh! Je suis tellement désolé! I didn't mean to do that! A quoi je pensais? How could I do that?! Ce qui ne va pas avec moi?"

Abygail looked to Ryder for a translation.

"Um…I caught 'what'."

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Charles set the receiver down. He was understandably stupefied. He had only come into the office to take care of a couple of school related matters before gathering the needed items for tomorrow's trip. He had not expected the phone to ring, much less to hear _her_ voice on the other end. He had thought their next meeting would be one of his doing by force, not her choice. She'd answered his request simply, "If Rogue is comfortable enough, I see no reason to keep you two apart any longer."

He kicked himself for not asking outright about her parentage, but in his heart Charles felt he _knew_ the answer. Rogue was his daughter. He would do whatever was required to protect her from whatever the threat. Irene had phoned him, calling him to be the answer to her prayers. He was not God-sent, only doing what he would ordinarily do for any new mutant – especially one as confused and quite possibly abused as Rogue. _Her name is Rogue._ He was sure Irene didn't even realize she'd called their daughter 'Rogue'. He had wondered which name was truly hers, if any at all from the files Logan obtained. _McKena, Sydney, Rachelle – Is Rogue merely a nickname?_

He found it strange that the first discovery on Cerebro had him referring to her as a rogue mutant. He remembered his first gleaned impressions of her: her mind was a jumbled mess as the young footballer's memories were at the forefront of hers. He recalled some of the very first things he'd said about her.

"… _indicate a highly disturbed individual. Our mutant is a danger to herself and possibly others as well." He turned to Logan,"She's an incredibly special mutant, Logan. I _do not_ want to lose her… she has the potential for limitless power."_

Charles wondered if he was right about her the first time, if his heart was getting in the way of his logical mind. Logan had already called his attention to this very idea once. He questioned if she were in reality a danger to the other students, would Charles do what was necessary to protect the others?

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Abygail was reaching her wit's end. Rogue sat in a chair across the room still speaking half in French. Aby threw her head back, blankly staring at the ceiling. Closing her eyes, she pondered aloud, "This is what we know: It would seem that when Rogue touches someone she pulls their memories and physical abilities, right?"

Ryder rubbed his upper arm, "I'm gonna go with 'yes'."

"I've had enough French for one day then," rising, Aby walked to Rogue, knelt down, and ran her fingertip across Rogue's cheek. Instantly she felt drained, as if she'd run miles in their PE class. She fell back onto the floor, legs cockeye, sucking in deep breaths. Ryder was at her side immediately. Breathlessly she whispered, "I sure hope that worked."

Rogue grimaced when she was initially touched, but quickly recovered to turn wide eyed to the two best friends she'd ever had, "Y'all kissed?!"

"Well, at least she's speaking English again," smiled Ryder.

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_After midnight…_Irene felt her watch and deciding that waiting up, hoping for Rogue to call again was pure folly, she gathered her things and headed towards her bedroom. Between the highs and extreme lows of the last couple of days, she just was completely exhausted. She'd barely been resting with Mystique in the house. _Mystique…._ It occurred to Irene that she'd only been thinking of Raven as 'Mystique'. She was no longer calling her once lover 'Raven'. She paused at Rogue's door, placing her hand on the frame, curious when that had exactly happened. Surprised, Irene was unable to pinpoint a time, but knew deep down that it had been coming for some time. She thought it probably all started the night when Rogue went to the lake to be with her friends.

She had long thought that Mystique's excessive rules concerning Rogue were torture for the girl. Irene was well aware of the plans they'd had for her since her birth, but after raising Rogue, seeing the person Rogue had become – Irene was left with a bitter taste. Thus, she sought out Erik, but even he couldn't or wouldn't protect Rogue from Mystique.

Irene put aside her fears and contacted the Guild. They'd hastened to employ Gambit to her beck and call. He assured her that he'd never left any task incomplete and he would return her daughter to her – safe, sound, and unharmed. Mystique was completely in the dark about Gambit's involvement, as was Erik, who believed he hired the thief himself to find his daughter. Irene almost laughed. _This is indeed a tangled web…_

Mystique believed incorrectly that Irene had no clue what had occurred just years ago, but she knew. Irene was determined her daughter would not suffer that fate again. Mystique had captured the runaway and left her to unimaginable horrors. Rogue had returned a completely different person, quiet and withdrawn. The school counselors wanted her to visit a psychologist – all because of Mystique.

Irene declared her daughter would no longer be Mystique's pawn. She would tell her everything, as soon as she called or returned. Either way, Irene was determined to reveal all the secrets, all the lies. Charles would arrive later today and bring reason and reconciliation, a calming peace to this troubled home. She laid her forehead to the doorframe and prayed that her daughter would return to her very, very soon.

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Long ago Rogue recalled longing for the touch of another. Flesh to flesh, skin to skin, lips to lips. Now one thing Rogue was very sure, she did not enjoy being touched…at all. After Cody, her arm had ached. Her skin burned upon the touch from Storm whose memories had shown so much to her. Each person seemed to have their own sensation attached, and each time she absorbed someone it was painful for her. Even the slight touch from Abygail had seemed to set her face afire. The memories flooded, and before Rogue could think, she blurted, "Y'all kissed?!"

"Well, at least she's speaking English again," smiled Ryder.

Aby sighed deeply, regaining some strength, "Focus, Rogue. What did you get from Jon?"

Rogue rolled her eyes, _too much is what I got… _"Well, his name's not 'Jon'. It's Remy or Gambit as he prefers to go by. He's a mutant with a really interesting ability." She raised her hand, causing a magenta glow, "Apparently, he can tap into an object's potential energy and create kinetic energy."

"Geesh, I feel like I'm in physics class."

"Not really, he makes things go 'boom!'

"Oh, okay, I don't feel so bad now," Ryder rubbed his neck, "still feel like I should study more though…"

Aby agreed, "Definitely your French."

"He's an amazing shot, very handsome, and charms the skirts off all the girls," Rogue clapped a hand over her mouth.

Aby gasped, "What?"

"Well, they're his memories – in his words. Not mine…cause they're in French."

"What else?" asked Ryder, staying on track…finally.

"Um…Irene hired him to track me down and bring me back. He's…," Rogue glanced to the man lying in her bed.

"He's what, Sweetie?"

"He-he's concerned for my safety because who else is coming after me."

Aby stood, with Ryder's help, "Who's that?"

"My father."

Ryder pulled out his knife, "We've _got_ to get out of here."

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The next morning Scott and Kurt stood nervously outside the Professor's office.

"Maybe we should wait until after school, give this some more thought, ja?"

"We both wanna know what's going on, right?" Kurt nodded. "Then let's go in and find out why this girl is in our heads."

Kurt looked as if he was going to be sick, losing all seventeen pancakes from breakfast, but agreed, "Ja. I guess we need to know."

"Then let's find out…before we spend another restless night wondering what's wrong with us."

"Sure thing." Neither of them moved. They shared a look, each gesturing at the other to knock.

"You are the der Kapitän, recht?"

Scott took a deep breath and knocked on the door, heard the soft 'enter', so he slowly opened the door.

There was no shock they found the Professor behind his desk and a stack of papers. This was his usual position, but he seemed to be deep in thought as usually he called out to the students before they even really knocked. However, not to be deterred, Scott and Kurt crept forward and sat down in the chairs before his desk.

Looking up, Charles took in the concern on the faces of his students. Not one to intrude on their thoughts without permission, Charles inquired, "To what do I owe this early visit," checking his clock, "when you both should be heading to school? I wouldn't want you late for class, gentlemen."

"We know, but we believe that this could be somewhat important…," Scott adjusted his red glasses, "Well, it's important to us."

"Then it is important to me as well. What seems to be the trouble?"

"You see Professor, we've been having these dreams. Similar but different. The gist is the same, but of course, since our experiences were different, I think that she affected our dreams as well."

Kurt nodded seriously, "Ja."

"Who is 'she'? And what dreams?"

Scott cleared his throat, "We're dreaming of the rogue."

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After finishing his breakfast, Logan headed for his suite. His plan was pretty simple in its entirety. The wolverine whined, thirsting for action and the thrill of the fight. He packed simply, not planning on any of this taking long, and headed back down stairs.

He stopped short at the foot of the stairs. Rubbing his bristled chin, he wondered if he should inform Charles of his newly revised mission. He moved to turn towards the Professor's office just as Kitty bounded out of the dining hall, calling and waving, "Bye Mr. Logan." He watched as the other students left the mansion for school.

Instead of Logan seeking out the Professor, he changed directions, heading for the hanger. _Better to get this over with and leave Chuck out of it – the less he knows the better. It'll be hard enough for him to forgive me, if he ever does._ Deep down Logan knew that when this was over his friendship with Charles would probably be as well. But the reason he was here at the institute was to protect the students.

Pulling his Stetson down across his brow, _and I will 'til my last breath…_

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Charles took a deep breath. This was unexpected. _Could this be another power of hers? Telepathy?_ _That could certainly be inherited from me…Perhaps a dream manipulator? Her mother is a precog. Could this be from both of us? _

"Scott, if you would not mind, please elaborate on these dreams. Perhaps some details will make it clear to me what it is you are actually seeing."

Scott quickly explained his dreams, which had initially began the same, then the dreams changed. He left out his feelings for the rogue that remained when he awoke. The dreams had begun immediately after their arrival home. Scott had thought they were merely a reminder of his failure, but something more was happening. The rogue had flown at him, rage-filled, or so Scott had thought at first, but she wasn't angry. She was afraid.

Her jade eyes pleaded with him to save her each night, and each night he tried. Sometimes she'd reach out to touch his cheek only to be pulled away into the frightening darkness. Every time Scott would awake with his heart pounding, and everyday Scott would find his thoughts drawn more and more to the scarlet-haired siren.

_No, I don't need the Professor to think I've lost my mind…much less my heart. _Scott gave pause; could he really be feeling this way for someone he never really met? Scott shook his head, _No, he doesn't need to hear any of this! _Scott refocused his attention of Kurt's retelling of his own dreams, of which there had only been a few.

Kurt's dreams were much more straight forward. Each of his dreams were a repeat of that night in the garden, talking with the rogue. Each time Kurt would try to convince her to come with them, only to fail again as she touched his face. After each, Kurt awoke feeling as if he somehow _knew_ the girl more so as each day passed.

"I feel as though I _know _her somehow. Professor, we only talked briefly before Kitty attacked and she put me down, but … I cannot explain it. I just – I just think I _know _her…like she's part of me," Kurt threw up his hands, turning to Scott, "See? This is a bad idea. I can't explain it and I sound crazy!"

Charles cleared his throat, "No, indeed, you do not. Neither of you sound as you say 'crazy'. These dreams of yours could be for many reasons. For instance, I know the girl," he was careful not to use her newly learned name, "has been a topic of conversation for some days. It could simply be the thoughts of those around you affecting your dreams, your thoughts. Also, it would appear that you two have been discussing this for some time which could be a viable reason for such dreams."

The two boys continued to stare at their Professor. Charles smiled gently, "What I mean to say is the unconscious mind helps us deal with things we are unable to in the light of day. You may simply be working out that night in your dreams – attempting to succeed where we failed."

The men continued discussing that night and actually made some discoveries about what possibly could have happened. They contemplated what should have happened, and how to handle such a situation differently in the future.

"I hope I've been able to answer some of your concerns this morning, but it's getting late. You both should be off to school now."

Scott nodded, and thanked the Professor. As he and Kurt left the office, heading to school he couldn't help but think that the Professor was leaving something out, holding back. Kurt seemed satisfied with the answers he'd been given, but Scott couldn't leave it alone. And he certainly didn't believe those were the only reasons for his dreams. His heart told him as much.

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With the deeper conversation he'd shared with the students, Charles began to believe that he was, in fact, causing the dreams. The stress, the discovery of his daughter, the phone calls with Irene, not to mention the day-to-day conversations he held with the other adults about Rogue all left him unable to deny that his telepath mind induced the dreams. Charles took a deep breath, attempting to create calm where he only felt unease. He needed to regain control.

Turning from his desk, he faced the window, and thought back through the discussion. They had discovered one interesting fact. They'd been aware of Mystique's presence at the graveyard that night, but none of the X-men could explain why the girl had been so fearful. Upon the relating of their dreams, overlooked words were discovered. To Scott, she mentioned there had been two of him, and with Kurt she'd referred to an angry badger, bear or aardvark. Charles smiled; she'd come close to depicting Wolverine with 'badger'. Although he was quite sure that Logan would not appreciate the description.

If Mystique had indeed mimicked both Cyclops and Wolverine, it was possible she'd also done the same with Storm and Jean – which would explain the fear he'd felt from the girl, along with the panic the others experienced firsthand.

_Will Rogue even be able to trust the X-men should she come here? How do I convince her? How could I possibly win her over after what Mystique has done? She'll never be comfortable enough to meet me face-to-face…_

Charles turned from his negative thoughts, grabbed the needed paperwork along with the cherry wood box, and went to find Logan. _I need to intervene before this situation spirals out of control…_

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The best friends awoke slowly, and late in the afternoon in their newly acquired hotel room miles from motel the night before. It had been decided to clear out before the hired hand awoke and attempted to deliver Rogue back to Irene. They'd fixed the broken table with the items from Aby's murder bag, which had proven quite handy after all.

After Ryder cut Gambit free, they'd left immediately, putting miles between them and the other mutant. Initially the thought was to head back to Mississippi, but each of them had been put through the ringer in the days before and needed rest, therefore they'd chosen to find a hotel far from the first. After a recharge with a short meal from room service, the three gathered around the table and went over everything they'd learned in the last twenty-four hours.

In the midst of the discussion, Rogue interjected, "Y'all should take the truck and head home. You don't have to be involved anymore. You should run for the hills with what you know now – what I've done to you." Rogue studied Aby.

She was honestly surprised, "You haven't done anything to me?!"

"I touched you, absorbed you."

"No, I'm pretty sure I did so you would speak in a language one of us actually knows." giving Ryder a look.

"I only had ONE year!"

"We _are already _involved."

"We _want_ to help. You're our best friend. We've come this far, we're not leaving you high and dry now," Ryder held firm.

"I mean, we came to help you get rid of a body – we're _in_ this. We've got your back. Period."

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Since they were staying, and determined to be involved and because she now had Aby's memories, Rogue thought it was only fair that they knew everything – absolutely_ everything –_ that she knew about herself, which wasn't much. After all, Rogue didn't even know her real name.

She began slowly, "I don't even know my real name. Each city was a new name. This was the first time I got to pick. I used to adore that show "Friends", so I picked 'Rachelle', with a little spin on it. I regret that choice now. I prefer Rogue because well, you named me, Aby," giving her a peek. "It's like it finally fits. It's me."

Abygail smiled, until Rogue quoted, "A dishonest or worthless person."

Frowning she moved to touch Rogue who flinched away, "That's not what I meant Rogue. I meant mischievous, playful. Like a scamp. You made me laugh. You see things differently. You made me take life less seriously, especially when it comes to my parents. You _changed_ me." She sat back down across from Rogue, keeping her hand stretched out to her best friend.

Ryder concurred, "It's true. She used to be a lot more controlling." Aby didn't even attempt to rebuke him. "She used to be like an eighty year old in a pre-teen's body."

Rogue didn't look up, "She still is."

"Somedays," Ryder peered at the subject of current conversation, "But she's more carefree, open, and giving. She's better…we're better for knowing you." Scooting forward in his chair, he stretched his hand out towards his other best friend, "I'd like to think you're better for knowing us too, Rogue."

Rogue gazed at their hands, then finally sighing gave over her gloved one, "I am. This is why you need to know everything there is, and then from there you can decide what you want to do."

Uncomfortable, but determined she forged ahead, telling everything she'd absorbed from Gambit, and the ones known as Storm and Nightcrawler. Nothing was left out this time. Everything Rogue could ever remember from childhood forward to now was laid bare. The entire time she spoke, Rogue stared blankly out of the hotel window.

When she finished there was silence for a long time. Finally Abygail broke the spell, "Sweetie, you're a better liar than I thought."

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Now that Ryder and Aby were fully informed of everything the three of them were up against, it was time for a plan of defense. Aby summarized, "Here's what we know: Gambit was hired by both Irene, who he believes to be Rogue's mom; and by her father. What's his name again?"

Rogue just stared out of the window, "His name is Magneto. That's all Gambit knew."

"Alright so, Irene and this Magneto guy are supposedly your parents and _supposedly _very concerned about you."

"Yeah, paid triple his fee – which is substantial," Rogue interrupted.

Ryder spoke up, "Yeah, that fee is nothing to sneeze at. So you've got a rich daddy and a mom who has been pretending to be your foster mom and claiming you've got a contagious skin condition. Wow, this is so far past messed up."

Aby continued, "Not only that but it would appear that Mystique – from what you gathered from Gambit – is a horrible person, which you also knew from firsthand experience, and who wants to take you away to New York. But why?"

Rogue finally turned to her friends, "I don't know, but I think it's high time we find out." Standing, she walked over to the hotel phone and dialed. Ryder glanced at Abygail who just shrugged. They watched Rogue carefully.

With her back towards them Rogue spoke, "Irene, it's me – your _daughter_. I'm coming home."

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**Translations:**

**Gosses: Kids**

**Que?: What?**

**Je suis tellement désolé: I'm so sorry**

**A quoi je pensais?: What was I thinking?**

**Ce qui ne va pas avec moi?: what is wrong with me?**

**der Kapitän, recht : the captain, right**

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**Thank you to Rogueflowr, nightwish635, Dreamer, and Jen-NCIS-Lover for your reviews. Thank you to everyone who added "The Tug of War" to your favorites, all who read, and all who added my story to your lists. It keeps me going that people are enjoying my story.**

**I just got another job, which I don't start for a bit, but I know when I do I'll probably not update as often, but my goal is once a week. **


	22. Crack The Whip

**Crack The Whip**

"Yeah, _Mom,_ you heard me right. I'm coming home, so you'd best get your story straight," Rogue hung up the phone not allowing Irene to get another word in edgewise, and inhaled deeply. She took a moment to gather herself before facing her best friends.

"Rogue…are you alright?" Abygail questioned cautiously.

Another deep breath, "Yeah…for now."

Ryder brushed his hands off and stood, "I guess we should get started then."

Facing her friends, Rogue replied, biting her lip, "You know, you don't have to do this."

Ryder crossed to her, placing his hands on her shoulders, and smiled teasingly, "We were ready to bury the body with you." then turning serious, "We're in this. Period. No matter what."

Abs nodded in agreement. Rogue attempted a smile in return, "Ok, gotcha. Let's do this."

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Charles located Logan in the hangar readying the Blackbird. He was surprised to find the man already there without informing him first. He was determined to move forward his plan, even if it was not what the two had agreed upon.

"Logan, I'm glad I found you."

"Couldn't have been too hard, the plan was I head to Natchez this morning." Logan didn't turn; he had smelled the Professor long before he spoke. He was prepared to do battle with Chuck, but not just yet. He had wanted to be gone before Chuck had a chance to seek him out. _I just wanted to get this done and over with…before I had to face him. _Logan slowly turned to his old friend and confidante.

"Ah yes, well, there's been a change of plans. I've spoken with Irene and she's arranged a meeting. But first we have to find my daughter."

This was unexpected. Logan believed they'd left her in Brandon with her mother. Narrowing his eyes, "What do you mean find her?"

Charles shifted in his chair, answering slowly, "Apparently she went missing shortly after our encounter with her in Jackson. Irene has sought my – our help in locating her and bringing her home…I hope to place her here – at the Institute when this is all over."

Logan stared at his friend as the wolverine whined. _This was _not_ the plan. This is nowhere near the plan….but it could serve the same purpose._ "So you and I are going after the rogue?"

Charles nodded, relived that Logan had not questioned him further, "Yes indeed, and then – with some luck – a meeting with my daughter."

Logan sensed there was more at work here, but then again, he had his own plans of which Charles knew nothing. He nodded, "Alright then, Chuck, get whatever ya need and then we'll head out."

Logan watched Charles exit the hangar, feeling guilt rise up through his very veins. He turned swiftly to continue prepping the jet. A callus part of his heart, mostly wolverine, wanted him to leave without the Professor. Even though he already felt traitorous, he refused to give into the wolverine's desires. _This is about more than me. _In the end, it was about protecting the kids, guarding the school, and hopefully – one day – saving the very man he was about to forsake. Yes, he would betray his long-time trusted friend, but he would do so to the man's face, not behind his back…No matter how much it hurt either of them.

_Please forgive me old friend,_ Logan silently begged while steeling himself for what _had_ to be done. _This wasn't the plan, but sometimes Plan B works just as well… _as the wolverine released his claws.

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Clearly his stress was affecting more than just himself, but everyone in the mansion. _This has to end before it gets out of control. _The only bright spot was the knowledge that soon he would be meeting the girl he believed to be his daughter very soon. Charles felt this introduction would not only comfort him, but also the troubled girl.

Of course, he realized Rogue was distressed, especially after the events of the night in the cemetery. Returning home with Rogue was a hope, but having to take _other_ measures might be unavoidable; and Charles prayed he would be strong enough should those measures be necessary. Yet another reason to have Logan accompany him on this return to Mississippi.

Logan was well-equipped to make the difficult choices, and was a voice of reason for Charles when those decisions were the only ones to make. He, nonetheless, needed Logan to be his right hand again, standing with him as he faced this greatest test as a mutant, as a X-man, and as a father. Would he be able to do what was necessary when required?

The Professor understood well his daughter was a danger – not only to others, but herself. She had run away for some unknown reason, and that made her all the more deadly, and Logan would be walking into this mess completely unaware of that fact. The entire situation was risky. He had no way of knowing if his daughter would fight them, even meet with him, or return with him at all. If she should fight them, with their own gifts, _could we stop her?_ It had occurred to Charles that Rogue did not need to gain Wolverine's abilities or else she would be virtually indestructible. The Professor _knew_ he could not allow that to happen.

_Perhaps that is exactly why I need Logan to be here should the situation deteriorate…_ Charles stopped, scrubbing his face; _I must check these rampant thoughts. And only hope I am strong enough to make the appropriate decisions – lives are at stake...more than just hers and mine. _

He knew that Logan was probably more than capable of handling the burden himself. Something Logan had done many times before, but Charles had no doubt the man could and would once again make the tough decisions for him. Be that as it may, the Professor did not want to lay that particular responsibility at Logan's feet.

_I would never forgive myself if that were to happen…_

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Remy swiftly opened his eyes and looked around. He was curled on his side, no longer bound, and it seemed he was all alone. Rolling out of the bed, he stayed alert – ready for any attack that could be coming from Rogue or her friends. _Fool me once…_

The room appeared to be empty except for his bag in a chair next to the table in the corner. Staying sharp, he swept the entire room before checking his bag. He was alone, with no sign anyone had been there except for the duct tape wrapped around one of the legs of the console table near the door. He smirked in spite of himself.

He went for his luggage, hoping his things were still there and intact. On the tabletop he noticed a letter with his name on it. Puzzled, Remy picked it up, unfolded it, and began to read.

Remy frowned as he read the note. Sitting in the free chair, he rubbed his face. Now instead of answers, he only had questions. But those burning questions would have to wait; right now, he needed a shave, a shower, a hot meal, and an actual rest…minus the drugging. And after that, there was a mystery to solve.

_And her name is Rogue._

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"If you _knew _how to handle him, it would have already been _done!_" Erik slammed the receiver down ending his conversation with his New York connections when Mystique rang him. She ended the call quickly, not allowing him to speak more than the 'Yes' when he answered.

"_You need to get the dog on a leash. He's gone after your daughter. Good luck with that." _

Her taunting rang in his ears. Erik was furious. He couldn't believe that not only had Mystique disregarded his original orders by heading to a hotel and copulating with Sabertooth, but she seemed positively amused when informing him the savage was going after his most important daughter. He slammed his hand on the desk, as metal swirled about. _Animal! I should have him put down! How dare he think to even consider touching my child! I will kill him myself! _Clenching his fist, smashing a few items behind him, he headed for the door, planning on teaching the beast a lesson himself.

Suddenly he stopped. This was not like Mystique. Mystique doesn't do favors, such as warning of coming danger – even under the threat of certain death. _She knows I would kill her if anything happened to Rogue._ Could he even be sure that Sabertooth was headed towards his daughter? Mystique wanted Erik to believe the dumb creature decided to apprehend his daughter – an idea borne of the beast's own small mind. It seemed completely absurd. And yet, Erik _had _to be sure.

_Sabertooth can barely think for himself, much less hatch a plan to steal _my_ daughter._ Erik still contemplated killing the brut. The fiend knew going after Magneto's daughter was a probable death sentence, and even he was not that knew he would need to make arrangements so Sabertooth would suffer greatly for his sins – going against Magneto would definitely cost him dearly. But he did not plan on putting the animal down. No, having the beast alive would not only serve in his future purposes in dealing with the X-men, but would also lead to great misery for Mystique as well. It was merely killing two birds with one hammer. A Sabertooth-shaped hammer. Erik smirked; _He is merely a means to an end – typically a violent end. A sledgehammer for a nail, but after all…_

_Sometimes you need a blunt instrument._

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Charles looked across to his old friend, feeling a tension, not previously existing between the two. _At least, not before Rogue. _Many would be surprised to learn that Logan and he had spent many long hours in his study talking. Logan would open up about what he could remember about his past. Charles would help as he was able, and soothe when he could not. It led them to trust one another – completely. _Until Rogue…_

He knew he needed to be honest with the man – completely and unflinchingly honest. It would require great trust on his part, but this was his most trusted friend. It was not a relationship Charles wanted to lose. Magneto was right when he'd informed Charles that a great war was coming, and he needed Logan on his side when it happened. While a ferocious beast, he was also a considerable confidant. Charles needed to decide what he was exactly prepared to lose.

Blatantly staring at Logan, Charles contemplated his options. It was clear that Logan was upset, and it was about more than their short discussion earlier.

"_So we're agreed then?" _

_Charles looked back at Logan with weary eyes, "Yes…for now."_

Xavier realized it was about him…and his daughter. The professor was well versed in the tightly wound Logan, but somehow this seemed different, almost primal. He was pulled from his deep thoughts, when Logan asked, "Got something on my face, Chuck?"

Charles remained silent, unsure of how to start – unsure of where his confession should begin. He looked down at the hands in his lap, shame filling his soul.

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All of this was exactly what he had warned against: rushing in headlong, not considering every angle, and trying to swope in and 'rescue' the girl. But it seemed that was indeed Chuck's plan – if he even had one, and Logan found it hard to believe the man had one. _I might be the only one with a plan here._

Logan truly did understand, honestly. The desire for a family was a strong pull within the wolverine, which was what lead him to stay with the Professor and help build up the Institute in the first place. But things had changed between him and his friend. Secrets were present where before there had once been complete openness and genuineness. The 'discussion' between the two strong-willed men earlier had solved nothing. They had only seemed to agree to disagree. Logan had gotten some extra insight into what he should look for while in Natchez, but that trip was postponed indefinitely, because now they were to _meet_ the rogue. _So why not just ask the kid for the information we need? If we can even talk her down…_

Logan knew Chuck was giving him the stare down, although unsure of the reason.

"Got something on my face, Chuck?"

The Professor quickly looked down at his hands. Logan sighed, realizing he and Chuck needed to talk – really talk, seriously. They had the time, even in the swift Blackbird. Logan sighed again deeply, and bit the bullet, "Chuck, we need to talk."

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Charles was not surprised by Logan's request to talk, even if the man usually preferred silence especially since moving into a kid-filled manor. He did owe his friend an explanation, and he desired to clear the air since he had been less than honest about Irene's call.

Bringing himself back into the moment, he faced his most trusted friend, to unburden himself. "I agree, Logan. There are some things I need to tell you. And quite frankly, I hope you'll be able to forgive me once you hear me out."

Logan stared at the Professor as he proceeded to confess word for word the exact conversation between the once lovers. He was shocked the girl had run away since she was so powerful and dangerous. _Why would she run? What's she afraid of?_ However, he also knew that her running changed nothing. His plan would remain the same. The girl was a danger and had to be taken out before she hurt anyone else.

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Since Mystique was finally attending to the task he'd set forth, Erik knew he'd have plenty of time to make her answer for her treachery. He sent a hasty email to someone who could rein in Sabertooth without much fanfare or bloodshed. There was no way he would allow his daughter to be accosted by an animal such as Sabertooth.

Now, Erik could focus on his own plans with a few _minor _changes, now that two of his own had gone off course. His plan had a great deal of moving parts, but Mystique wasn't completely necessary for him to succeed, neither was Sabertooth – only Rogue. Only his precious daughter would be necessary in the coming war. She was essential, not Mystique, and definitely not the beast.

Erik pondered just what Mystique had to gain. It appeared as if she was joining the game as a player, not a disciple. _So just what game is she playing?_ Hurting Rogue would only bring death to her door; she was after all no pawn. Rogue had the makings of a queen…

To the chess-master, it seemed as if Mystique were merely playing checkers. However, Erik needed to be careful, because as any champion knew, your own pawns could be your downfall.

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Charles admitted his shame in hiding the truth from his old friend, "I never expected something like _this,_" waving his hands to encompass their present circumstances, "to happen. I believed my life to be child-less. You know better than any, Logan that is why I began the Institute, to help the children. Allowing them to flourish, where you and I…and Erik were never given that privilege."

"Chuck…"

Logan," Charles interrupted, "I am sorry, my dear friend, but I _must_ ask you to help me with all of this..."

"Chuck," Logan held up his hand to halt the other man, "I get where you're coming from. Completely and honestly, but this girl – your daughter…She is a danger. She's a threat to us. All of us. Every kid at the mansion, every X-man,…every mutant. Without understanding her own power, she is only indiscriminately hurting people. You say she doesn't know, doesn't understand her power, that she wasn't taught. It won't matter. She's unstable. You said so yourself. 'Highly disturbed' and 'a danger to herself and possibly others', and you are the one who said her mind was 'confused'. What if she's confused about who the real enemy is? That might be a chance you're willing to take…"

"It's not."

Logan did a double take, "What?"

Charles, looking sadder than Logan could remember seeing him, repeated, "It's not. It is not a chance I'm willing to take. She has the potential for _limitless_ power. I…No matter how I feel, it's not a sacrifice I'm willing to make."

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Remy had made his way back to his original room at the hotel. There was no need to let the paid room go to waste, nor was there a reason to pay for the semi-wrecked room where he'd awoken. He had finally showered, and was heading for the land of dreams. The last hours had taken their toll, and with Rogue headed home there was nothing left for the thief to do except take a much deserved break.

Sitting on the edge of bed, Remy pulled the note she'd left him from his bag. She'd left everything, minus a deck of cards. He could not understand why she'd taken them. There was no explanation in her note. Among other things, she stated she was headed home and claimed she'd inform Irene it was because of him – to ensure he would be paid.

Falling back onto the bed, note on his chest, he thought about the girl. _Rogue. Why was she running? Just _what_ can she do? _Remy closed his eyes, but all he could see were her emerald eyes – full of fear – whether from him or something else; he didn't know. He knew she could shoot lightening and apparently knock someone out with a mere touch, so why was she afraid?

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"Rogue," he whispered into the empty room. Erik wondered at this new feeling growing inside. He'd gone into a rage because of the simple idea that the beast had set after his daughter. Naturally, Erik told himself that he'd only been troubled because the animal's involvement could have upset the plans he had worked towards for years.

Yet, this was something more. He _felt_ for the girl, one he'd never met face to face. Of course, Irene had sent pictures. He felt fear when she could not be found. He was worried when Gambit had lost her – twice. He was proud that _his_ girl had outsmarted a Guild thief. He had murderous rage at the thought of Sabertooth even thinking of touching her. She was so much more than he imagined, and more than he could have hoped.

Getting her away from Mystique would only be the first step. After his last conversation with her, apparently there were new players in this game. He would need to maneuver, even sacrifice a couple of pawns to protect the queen.

Keeping Rogue away from Charles, would probably be a lifetime battle. However, Erik felt ready. When Charles found out about their affair, Erik knew his old friend would be hurt. He might fight for the girl, entreating her to join his X-men. But once Charles discovered who Rogue really was, he would stop fighting. And Rogue would be all his. She would grant him all the power he'd ever desired. And she would do so – either willingly or not.

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The rest of their flight had been in silence. Each man lost to his own thoughts and feelings.

Logan was prepared to do whatever was necessary for the greater good of not only the students, but also for the Professor. No matter the personal or emotional cost to himself. He only wanted to save his old friend from an impossible choice.

Charles struggled to keep his emotions under control. He needed to explain his position to Logan before it was too late to turn back. They had already arrived at Irene's. He cleared his throat, and quoted, "Peace demands the most…difficult sacrifice."

Logan put the car into park, and turned to Charles, hardening his stare, "Chuck, I think you need to elaborate some."

He met Logan's eyes with tears in his own, "I've given this a great deal of thought. While I'm not willing to allow others to suffer, I'm also unwilling to harm my child…"

"Charles…"

"No, Logan, I would die for her. That is _my_ great sacrifice."

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She wondered if she would ever feel like _her_ again. The answer was simple: no. Rogue would never be the same. She wanted to wake up from this nightmare. _This ain't no dream though_. She would not wake up at home, and return to her regular life; because _she _was not the same anymore. Her life was not the same anymore. She had changed._ In a touch. _

Rogue looked at her bare right hand. Her index fingernail was chipped. She examined every line in the flesh. She inspected her rings on her fingers. She scrutinized each pore. _Just a touch._ It did not make sense. She could not fathom. She had done all this in a touch. Everything. Gone. _In just a touch._

She started when Abygail touched her shoulder, "Rogue? You ready?"

Rogue pulled on her glove, and looked to her friends, "As ready as I'll ever be."

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Logan noticed the truck pulling into the driveway, but kept his attention on the Professor.

"That's her."

Charles got his first _real_ glimpse of his daughter. She was with two other teens, but Rogue stood out with brilliant fiery auburn hair. Charles watched the three teenagers head for the door.

Beside him, Logan sighed, "No need to make that kind of sacrifice, Bub. All I'm asking for is acknowledgment that your daughter might need more than we, at the institute can give. She…she's dangerous, and unstable."

He shook his head, turning to Logan, "Logan, you're asking me to go to war against my _own daughter_!"

Logan reached for the door handle, "No Chuck, I'm telling you we are."

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Irene opened the door slowly, hoping it would be Charles and praying it would be good news.

"Hello Mother."

"Rogue! Oh thank goodne…"

"Give me _one_ good reason not to lay a hand on you."

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**Thank you to KaliAnn, Guests, Dreamer, Jen-NCIS-Lover, TrickyBusiness, and Drakonpie250 for your reviews. Thank you to everyone who added "The Tug of War" to your favorites, all who read, and all who added my story to your list. It means a great deal to me and I hope you're enjoying "The Tug of War".**


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